Broken World Series
by Teenwitch
Summary: The world is broken, post a vampiric invasion that has tore apart society as we know it. Buffy Summers, the slayer, can only hold herself responsible.
1. Default Chapter

AUTHOR: Teenwitch  
  
EMAIL: Teenwitch_feedback@msn.com  
  
DISCLAIMER: No I don't own them, but if I did the world would be a better place.  
  
SUMMARY: This is a story of lost identities and the struggle to discover who it is you really are.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is a new series, so you can expect more parts in the not-so-far future. I'm going for dark and depressing, but I don't know, let me know if I pulled it off.  
  
SPOILERS: Anything and everything.  
  
DISTIBUTION: This story's for all. Anybody can feel free to put it on their site if they let me know about it first. And please do, because I would love to have some work posted!  
  
FEEDBACK: You know you want to.  
  
RATING: R  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
In the end, we all are who we are. No matter how much we may have appeared to change. -'Lessons'.  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
BROKEN WORLD SERIES -  
  
Part One: Estrangement  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
The world was broken, an unidentifiable place.  
  
Once again it was in the command of evil influence and control: The Old Ones- the vampires. But unlike the dawn of time, this was long past the evolution of humanity, and it duly suffered in the aftermath. The world knew the pain and abject misery derived from the earth millions of years before civilization was born, the earth that was once one of the fiercest hell dimensions in existence.  
  
Chief leaders were destroyed, great cities burned.  
  
Chaos reigned.  
  
Spreading in an influx of sheer terror and despair, its authority stretched at an unimaginably fast pace, inconceivable to anything we can hope to imagine today. Poverty and disease, famine and squalor, it tore apart families and homes, children and parents, lovers and siblings.  
  
And it all began in the small, typical setting of an ordinary Californian town. A town which was known as Sunnydale -a town none too remarkable, none too interesting at all.  
  
Except for the fact that Spanish settlers erected it over the very Gates of Hell.  
  
Oh, and then there was the slayer, of course.  
  
A formidable young woman, no more than a child really. She possessed an unearthly beauty of which she attained from her mystical roots, and was the centre of many legends that we still often read of to this day. Ill-fated, she was to be the one single girl in all the world chosen to defend that small little town atop of Hell, and all that dwelled there.  
  
At this, she failed.  
  
The following takes place six years after that sacrifice.  
  
~*~*~*~*  
Los Angeles Sector 7A  
  
Border Control  
  
2008  
  
The darkness filtered slowly over the city streets, crawling with limitless patience, yet with an voracious thirst for power, the knowledge it would come again just in the recesses of it's existence- and that when it did come again, it would perhaps be for a little longer.  
  
That it would ultimately reign.  
  
The slayer slunk in those illusory shadows with the practiced swiftness of a predator. Unlike most of the innocent human beings caught in the crossfire between good and evil, she was not the hunted. She was the hunter.  
  
She was the one thing darkness still feared.  
  
The gates to the Los Angeles Sector 7A loomed dauntingly up ahead of her, guarded heavily by fortified figures clad in sinister black- whether they were human or vampire, she wasn't close enough to tell. She paused to duck behind the undergrowth beneath the rise of the main highway. Vampire patrol groups also converged at the top of the knoll and her eyes narrowed into slits as she observed them with hatred.  
  
To distract herself her eyes drifted slowly to the gateway that stood between her and her and the city of Los Angeles.  
  
L.A lay behind those walls, once home, so long ago now. It had been a very long time since she had returned to Los Angeles.  
  
She preferred to stay away. The city held too many memories, too much pain. And apart from that, it was pretty much the vampire's central base. Getting in was going to be extraordinarily difficult. Migration to and from Los Angeles was at a stringent limit- if there was anyone out there who still wanted to actually enter the city at all.  
  
One of so many things that had changed since the invasion.  
  
But she was willing to take that risk. Something here had called to her again, some inner sense. She was always drawn here at least every year. Following on the false hope that maybe, just maybe, her friends had survived and they were here, somewhere.  
  
No, she never strayed too far from home.  
  
But never before had she quite convinced herself to venture inside the city gates either. She returned persistently, to stare wistfully up at the gates, struggling with the constant inward debate to endeavour inside, but she never did. She didn't like to think of herself as a coward - the slayer couldn't afford to be. But underneath that confident swagger and sharp stinging wit, that was all she was.  
  
Buffy Summers clenched her knuckles tightly, and took a deep steadying breath.  
  
She would be going in tonight.  
  
However, there would be no risks. She was here for a significant purpose, one she remained confident that she could pull off.  
  
Stopping the vampires.  
  
L.A. was the key, any novice could figure that. Buffy intended to take it down, or at least put a chink in the proverbial armour the vampires protected themselves with.  
  
Then there was always Sunnydale, of course.  
  
If Los Angeles was strictly contained, Sunnydale was worse. Much worse. Standing over the Hellmouth, it was naturally an important aspect of the vampire's reign. It was heavily protected, and encased in a magickal barrier that only the blood of a supernatural being could breach. It was the only city in the United States occupied in its entirety by vampires and vampires alone. No human ever survived past its gates.  
  
There were some limits that even a vampire slayer couldn't hope to breach and that was certainly one of them. Though she was indeed supernatural in birth, she had no desire to be locked away in some vampire prison, awaiting her death so that the next Chosen One could be called if she were to be caught.  
  
There were countless human prisons all over the sectors, and as soon as you were captured, that was where you went. She had heard horrible things about those places.  
  
So there were going to be no risks.  
  
The other reason was the fact that she just couldn't muster up the courage to return there, not yet. If Los Angeles was overladen with emotional baggage, it paled in comparison to Sunnydale.  
  
For now, L.A. was just a big enough challenge.  
  
She flicked her waist length mane of blonde hair impatiently over one shoulder, and took the time to give the vamps present a quick headcount. Too many. All of her instincts were buzzing to get in there and take them all out, but she knew surprise was pretty much the element here.  
  
Where the word slayer was once an unknown name in the general populace, the title now assumed a role of mysticism rather than actuality, which was ironic really when one considered she had started off about as notorious as a ballerina-dancing hippopotamus.  
  
As far as the vampires of this world were concerned, Buffy Summers was dead and long buried. Jumping into an avoidable fight was definitely going to defy that. And that meant making things very difficult for herself.  
  
The reason they thought she was a myth, of course, was because she made it that way. She passed through from one set of anarchists to the next, one city from the next, never long enough to prolong a rep, never long enough so that they could form more of a friendship than the uncomplicated associations that she preferred. Never long enough that they could learn her true identity.  
  
Because, after all, that was what had gotten them all into this mess in the first place.  
  
Buffy sighed, and stopped her thoughts just in time before they moved off in that certain forbidden direction and sat back on the balls of her feet. Then resolutely she straightened, and began to circle the perimeter of the gate in full alertness. A slow, wide grin spread across her features when she spotted her opening.  
  
A vampire had fallen asleep at his post - and she couldn't even blame him. They weren't expecting any trouble, and they certainly had no reason to. It just proved once more how far the power of the vampire's authority was stretching. They were too cocky, too secure, and they had good reason to be. Anticipating any activity from what they considered to be harmless civilian life was not something they deemed to be vital.  
  
This night was going to be an exception.  
  
Buffy's slim fingers curved around the shape of the sharply wielded stake in her jacket pocket. She dashed forward at a blindingly fast speed, and ducked behind a pile of tossed crates before any of the other vamps could even turn their head and see.  
  
The snoozing vamp didn't so much as twitch.  
  
Buffy brandished the stake in front of her, and skulking up beside him, plunged it through his heart. Whipping her head around and straining to see through the darkness - unfortunately unlike her adversaries she wasn't blessed with built-in night vision goggles - she made sure the sound had gone unheard to his fellows.  
  
Then she slipped along with her back pressed to the cold concrete wall until she hit a chain link fence adjoined with it going in the opposite direction. Pausing, she swept her gaze uneasily to either side. Satisfied she was still alone, Buffy wound her fingertips tightly into the holes of the wire, and launched herself gracefully up the side of the fence in walk like strides. The top was lined with barbed wire and she cursed to herself when her hands closed around it, causing sharp pain to stab at her palms. Gritting her teeth firmly together, Buffy ignored the feel of pain, and straightened unsteadily.  
  
Arms swaying out in front for balance, Buffy leapt. She landed with a hard thud against the concrete, but her arms gripped the top of the wall. She heaved herself slowly up to the top.  
  
The other side was completely pitch black, and almost impossible to see into, until a group of sniggering vampires emerged from within a building close by. One of them held a fag between his fingers, and he lit up. The spark of the cigarette lighter was enough to alert Buffy to where they were.  
  
She crawled along the top of the wall, which was moderately thick to account for her petite figure. She dropped to the ground when the sound of their laughter grew fainter.  
  
Very casually, she brushed off the dirt that had stained her clothing and started off along the cramped alleyway as if she did it every day.  
  
She was in. She was home.  
  
For now.  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
Los Angeles had never been the most honest or upright place.  
  
Buffy had lived there for the better part of her twenty-seven years, and even though those years had been lived in blissful ignorance of the inner workings of the world, every city-dweller was raised with enough knowledge to know about what went on in the dark.  
  
The invasion had only just magnified those problems.  
  
As Buffy slowly walked on through the streets, she avoided eye contact with passers-by, kept her head bowed low, and wrapped her leather jacket tighter around her frame, unconsciously protecting herself.  
  
Men in ragged clothing huddled around dying trash fires, and women strutted the streets clad in skanky leather and cheap, tawdry materials that exposed just about everything. They were pale and drawn in the face, and she didn't need her slayer senses to be able to tell they had been letting vampires feed off of them, and getting what they wanted in return.  
  
Buffy shivered, and knocked shoulders with a man passing in the opposite direction. He sneered at her jeeringly.  
  
"Watch it, Princess", he snapped, flashing yellowing teeth.  
  
Buffy turned away, closing her eyes miserably, concentrating on the path ahead instead. Vampire patrols had passed frequently since her arrival inside the city gates, and she wanted to find somewhere to hole up the night. As it was, any sane person who didn't bare a serious death wish had already hid themselves away from the ever-increasing threat of night.  
  
She turned a tight corner, and couldn't help but wrinkle her nose when she realised a cluster of junkies occupied the cramped space. Buffy picked up the pace.  
  
"Hey".  
  
She felt wiry fingers close around her wrist before she was tugged roughly around, and Buffy found herself staring into the face of a woman about her own age, obviously heavily into the habit.  
  
God, she thought in disgust, guessing she was probably after money. Why is it that there is suddenly a vampire takeover and the human race just uses it as another excuse to screw themselves over?  
  
"I don't have any money", she snapped, wrenching her arm free and starting off again.  
  
"Buffy!"  
  
Buffy stopped dead in her tracks at the sound of her name, and narrowed her eyes suspiciously as she regarded the woman.  
  
She stepped closer, into the light filtering over the alley walls from the moon, and Buffy took a moment to recognise her. Her hair, a dark strawberry blonde colour, was stringy and oily, and her features were pale and drawn. Her green eyes squinted as they stared Buffy up and down in mild disbelief, and Buffy had to choke on her shock.  
  
"Amy?"  
  
It was Amy Madison, an old friend of Willow's from Sunnydale high.  
  
Amy chuckled humourlessly. "You're still alive", she observed blandly. "Isn't that something?"  
  
Buffy hesitated before moving closer to her, and shook her head. "Amy, oh. God. What. happened to you?"  
  
Amy shrugged. "I'm not a strong person, Buffy", she said wretchedly, as if that would explain it. "I do what I have to".  
  
Buffy closed her eyes. So here it was. Here was the very embodiment of her past, living proof that she had been a person once, had been alive.  
  
It was easy enough to see what had happened to the Wicca- Buffy had been too distracted to sense it before, but the use of magick was practically radiating from her, to an extent it was obvious it had been abused. This was the person Willow would have become herself, had things not altered as drastically as they had.  
  
"I thought you were dead", Amy went on, as if Buffy wasn't even there at all. She laughed again. "Everyone else seems to be. Nothing's been the same since that night".  
  
Buffy knew what night she was referring to - the night Sunnydale was taken over.  
  
Buffy grasped Amy desperately by the shoulders. "Amy, you have to listen to me for a second here. I need your help. My friends? Do you know if they're still alive? Willow, or Xander, or-or Dawn?"  
  
Amy's pupils darted in and out of focus. "They won't last long here. Nobody ever does. Not with them". She looked at Buffy, with sudden urgency. "You have to be careful here, Buffy. They'll kill you, if you don't understand. They always kill you".  
  
Buffy pulled away a step in exasperation. It was beginning to become disturbingly obvious that Amy wasn't all there. "Who will?"  
  
"Wolfram and Hart", Amy responded dimly.  
  
Buffy furrowed her brow. "Wolf, Ram and who?"  
  
"Wolfram and Hart", a voice spoke darkly behind her shoulder. Buffy turned swiftly, fists unconsciously clenching at her sides.  
  
A young man stared back at her, looking remarkably calm considering his surroundings - and sane, Buffy noted, with slight relief. He had coal black hair and equally piercing dark eyes, that probed into her wisely.  
  
"They're the big thing in these parts", he continued on nonchalantly. "You're not from around here, are you? Else you would have already known that".  
  
Buffy glanced at Amy, who had curled in on herself in the corner, and was rocking to and fro, muttering to herself under her breath. She took a cautious step towards the man.  
  
"Who are you?" she demanded charily.  
  
"You a friend of hers?" the man asked instead, ignoring her question and gesturing to the witch pointedly on the ground.  
  
Buffy frowned. "Not. exactly. Is she going to be okay?"  
  
He sighed deeply. "It's hard to say. I met her on one of her clean days, but those are becoming fewer and far between lately. I come and check up on her every now and then. She's usually easy to find. And Sector sweeps are normally later in the week, so I don't have to worry too urgently about the vampires".  
  
He extended a hand, seeing her still distrustful look. "I'm Ryan", he explained politely. When she accepted his hand, he frowned at her. "I don't know why you're out here all alone. Don't you know it's dangerous after dark?"  
  
Buffy glared at him. " I can take care of myself", she responded acridly.  
  
He didn't look affronted. "I don't doubt it. So, do I get a name?"  
  
"Buffy", she answered carefully.  
  
"Buffy", Ryan repeated thoughtfully. "Mind if I ask what you're doing in L.A.? Nobody comes here without a good reason, and I'm interested to hear yours".  
  
"I have people here", she replied guardedly.  
  
"Ah", he murmured. "But you don't know they're alive?"  
  
She looked away. "No."  
  
She paused, and then her blue eyes flickered up to him again. "This Wolfram and Hart? Who are they?"  
  
"Them?" He pursed his lips in a dry smirk. "Lawyers, mostly. And human ones, which I find highly ironic. But Amy wasn't wrong when she said how dangerous they are. The vampires let them live because they're powerful -probably more so than they themselves. If they hold a grudge against you, you're dead. It's as simple as that."  
  
Buffy cocked an eyebrow. "Nobody's tried to take them out?"  
  
Ryan eyed her with newfound wariness. "People tried. But they all died in the process. Even then, the best thing you can hope to do is kill the human partners, and they aren't the ones in supreme control."  
  
"Well who is?"  
  
He frowned. "I don't know why you're asking all of these questions, but I can see where your mind is going, and you can forget it. Wolfram and Hart had been doing this in L.A. a long time before the invasion. If anything, they were probably at least partially responsible for it. The only person who's ever really survived against them did nothing but piss them off, and their power has grown so much now that they don't even have to worry about him anymore".  
  
A strange sinking sensation started in Buffy's stomach, and she stared at Ryan closely.  
  
"This person?" she started slowly. "Who are they? Do you know their name?"  
  
Ryan sighed deeply. "If you're thinking of going after them -"  
  
"Please!" she interrupted tensely. She drew in a long soothing breath to calm herself, before she spoke again in a much more unruffled tone. "Just tell me. Who are they?"  
  
Ryan bit his lip, and then shrugged as if to say, 'What does it matter to me, anyway?'  
  
"He works with a group of people like him. They only do small time stuff, nothing to really draw attention to themselves. There's no point in risking it anymore. Apparently. well, I've heard stories that he used to be one of them."  
  
Buffy felt her whole body quiver. "And his name?" she asked quietly.  
  
Ryan exhaled noisily. "As far as I know?  
  
"His name is Angel".  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
Crashing music was pounding out from the stage when she slipped silently past the intimidating figure of the bouncer, and managed to furtively make her way inside the club.  
  
Faith ground down hard on her teeth as she struggled to shove her way through the gyrating bodies on the crowded dance floor, poverty-stricken youths flinging themselves carelessly around, flirting with all sorts of perverse danger as they did.  
  
The trashy nightspot was dubbed Prophecy, which Faith figured was just another ironic twist in the joke that was her life. It reeked of sweat mingled with cheap cigarettes and spirits, and she wrinkled her nose in disgust. The patrons were punk-types and what would have been bikies in peacetime, covered with all sorts of obscene body art and studs and rings.  
  
It was the kind of place that would have attracted her a few years ago.  
  
She balanced on the tips of her toes as she swept her dark brown eyes searchingly over the heads of the dancers, ignoring the blatantly admiring stares she drew from some of them.  
  
God, even I find that a bit degrading.  
  
The whole place smelt of corruption and dirty dealings, which were, as luck would have it, things she was very intimately familiar with.  
  
Prophecy was in the very centre of one of the diverse human settlements around this Sector, which had yet to be busted by vampire patrol groups.  
  
Not that there weren't signs of vampire interaction.  
  
Crosses and bulges in jackets and pockets that were obviously weaponry were seized by at least a third of the general population, which reminded her all too utterly that they were indeed in the middle of a war.  
  
A war they were loosing.  
  
She wrangled her way over to the bar, eyes still searching for the reason she was here in the first place. She'd seen worse off places, but this one in particular was giving off some vibes that were making her agitated and uncomfortable.  
  
It was in what had once been an old warehouse in Boyle Heights, a cluttered bar thrown together over to one side, and booths to the other. The majority of space was left to the dance floor, and a pathetic stage in the juncture at the front that creaked with every movement of the band that was singing on it.  
  
She vaguely wondered why these places even operated at all, they had no purpose, and most of the people that went to them were such obvious targets for vampire meals that she didn't see them lasting into the next week. But then she supposed they needed something to keep the shells of their lives in existence, and the crowded area at least provided some safety.  
  
Faith the vampire slayer had been brought into the vampiric invasion reluctantly, and that was the truth.  
  
She was sitting on jail sentence of five years without parole at best when the warning signs first started. That gang warfare had waged out of control in small suburbial Sunnydale.  
  
She remembered the moment distinctly in her mind- even now. She'd been in the T.V. room, and Katty, a fellow inmate, had jostled her into a game of cards. At first the news bulletin had come up, she hadn't payed much heed. Then the word Sunnydale was uttered, and she was listening so intently she could feel the blood churning in her ears.  
  
Faith didn't understand it at the time. After all, what didn't happen in Sunnydale? She had only lived there a year before her coma, and yet had experienced a lot more pandemonium there than in her whole life back in good old Boston.  
  
But something about this situation impulsively instilled fear into her veins, and the moment the broadcast announced Sunnydale was under 'gang control', she realised it was virtually secret code for, 'The Hellmouth's finally kicking back'.  
  
Understatement.  
  
The sketchy details she had gathered from various sources all stated more or less the same thing.  
  
It had begun simply enough by the arrival of a new vampire leader- funnily she couldn't even remember his name now.  
  
What was different about this vampire was that he had ambitions. Ambitions he definitely intended to fulfil, unlike so many of his indolent self- inclined relations. Ambitions like exterminating entire human existence.  
  
He had escaped detection on introduction to town, and had lain low shrewdly biding his time for months on end, gathering his forces, and striking in one deft attack that there was no hope of anticipating.  
  
The vampires had been merciless; ravaging the town within hours, converting the Sunnydale Main Street into a feasting ground for their kind, and a cemetery for hers.  
  
Nobody could prevent it, and their aspirations certainly didn't stop at the Hellmouth. Their number grew enormously in that one single hit, and they had extended their domination and taken most of California in the next year and a half with an ease that chilled her to the bone.  
  
It wasn't long at all before their influence had spread to the city.  
  
Their leader had called for Faith's extermination, and before she knew what was happening, the guards had been turned and she was being hauled off into some quiet dark corner cell to be 'taken care of'.  
  
So what had she done?  
  
She got the hell out of there, of course.  
  
And the rest was more or less history. Here she was, wrenched violently back into the position she had resented ever since her first watcher's murder- the slayer. Protector of mankind, Chosen One, all that jazz.  
  
The one and only, if rumours were to be believed.  
  
Buffy Summers hadn't been heard from since the invasion first began, and by all accounts she had died right there doing her duty, protecting all she held dear and paying the failing price for it.  
  
Buffy's alleged death resulted in a lot of mixed emotions for the renegade slayer. They had been the best of friends, once, and Faith had even replaced Willow on Buffy's socialite list, for the shortest time.  
  
Then things had altered so drastically, and she had allied herself with the evil Mayor, a decision that pinned slayer against slayer.  
  
The last time they had seen each other they had come to a stilted, if ambivalent understanding.  
  
But Faith never wanted her dead.  
  
It was hard to believe the ultimate Buffy Summers had failed at anything; she always won and came out on top. Death had never stopped her before.  
  
Of course, there was always a first time for everything.  
  
Faith let out a sigh of relief when she finally spotted who she was there for, leant oh-so-casually against one of the booths talking to his friend - she couldn't remember the guy's name - and blending in easily with the shadows with the grace that a slayer could envy.  
  
She strutted over to them with newfound confidence, but thudded into someone on her way - which considering the amount of clientele in the bar was not exactly avoidable.  
  
"Hey!" a voice snapped, thick with a brogue English accent. "Watch it there".  
  
Faith whirled, unable to resist a good repartee before he gave her the excuse to deck him one, when she was confronted with him face-on, and was struck with a sense of distinct familiarity.  
  
"Do I know you.?" she asked haltingly.  
  
Now he offered her a wolf-grin, a slow lazy sort of smile that made her shiver, and she couldn't help but notice how damn sexy he was.  
  
The face was studless, which was a definite tick in the plus column in her book, and his hair was relatively normal enough, peroxided blonde and plastered back with gel. But there was arrogance about him. a confidence that she noticed, and was very appealing all at the same time.  
  
"Say, now I was just about to ask you the same thing".  
  
She knew guys well enough to know that he found her attractive, but there was something else in his gaze that made her uneasy.  
  
What the hell.?  
  
"I'd say I just have one of those faces", he went on, blue eyes suddenly darting over her warily.  
  
So he feels something off too then.  
  
"I'm not especially from these parts".  
  
"No." she murmured, but could not for the life of her shake the feeling.  
  
That voice.  
  
He bobbed his head awkwardly. "Well, best be off."  
  
She stepped aside, and started to move through the throng to her earlier destination herself. "Yeah."  
  
She was still studying his departing figure thoughtfully through the corner of her eye as she sidled up to the table that Angel and Gunn - Gunn, that's his name -, now occupied.  
  
"Sorry I'm late", she muttered distractedly, not really looking at either of them, and slumping into the ratty chair between them, legs propping up on the spare seat across from her. Annoyance flashed behind Gunn's eyes, and she had to grin. He didn't like her, probably something See-all-Know- all Cordy had told him. Bugging him just gave her a little extra free entertainment. They didn't get cable anymore, after all.  
  
Her brown eyes flicked in Angel's direction, and she realised the dude was in serious. well, serious-mode. Not that it was an unfamiliar look for him or anything. All the same, she could sense something was off, and forgot all about her strange encounter with the blonde Englishman.  
  
"Angel?" she prodded gently. "What's the score? You look wicked business- like there".  
  
He glanced up, slightly distracted himself. "Oh. Sorry. I uh."  
  
Faith looked to Gunn, who gave a small shrug in response. "Hey, don't look at me. Not a free agent. He didn't even tell me what the deal is either - just dragged me along for the trip".  
  
Faith smirked, tone dripping sarcasm. "I'll just bet he did".  
  
Angel leant forward solemnly. "Look Faith, I need your help with something."  
  
Faith cocked an eyebrow. "Does this something involve roughin up vamps in some way? Cause if it does, count me in. Anything to get those freakin' blood suckers crying uncle".  
  
Angel barely managed a smile. "Well good. I'm glad you're on board." He paused. "I need someone who knows the prisons of this town fairly well, and well, the most obvious candidate for that is you".  
  
Faith snorted. "I should be flattered, cept y'know, not. So what do you need help on, hmm? Break-in?"  
  
Angel shrugged. "More like a break-out actually, but same concept. I've had word that the Sector 7H prison is where a good friend of mine is stationed. And I wanna get him out."  
  
"I think he'd be more than willing to go along with that", she responded dryly in her usual evasive manner, but inside her heart was thudding uncontrollably in her chest.  
  
There was something else. Something she could sense, and was making her palms incredibly sweaty.  
  
Gunn noticed it too, because he leant forward in his chair, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Angel, man, just what friend are we talking here?" he asked bluntly.  
  
Angel looked him straight in the eye.  
  
"Wesley".  
  
Faith choked. "WESLEY?!" she blurted out, shout drowned out by the heavy metal music around them. "You're messing with me, right? We're calling Wesley a friend these days, are we?" She rose abruptly to her feet, knocking back her chair, and shook her head emphatically. "Forget it, Angel. You know I usually got your back in any situation, but not this. Not after. no way".  
  
Gunn looked loathed to admit it, but spoke up himself. "Hate to say, but I'm with her."  
  
Angel frowned. "Look, guys, I know we have our issues with him-"  
  
Faith had to scoff. "ISSUES?" she repeated scathingly. "You got that damn right! He sold us out, Angel, and it isn't the first time from what I've been told. I'd bet my life's insurance he'd fold faster than superman on laundry day if he had the chance to screw us over again. We can't trust him, and you want my help to break him out of the brig? The guy can stay in there for all I care. He can stay in there and freakin ROT."  
  
Angel's eyebrows tweaked together. "I think you're getting a bit bent on this, Faith", he said sharply. "A few years ago and it would have been exactly the other way around, wouldn't it? But Wesley was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt".  
  
Faith sighed in loud exasperation, frustrated beyond belief. "This is. different. I didn't kill any of my friends."  
  
Angel gave her a long pointed look. "You might have".  
  
Faith shifted uncomfortably, and it was obvious they were both thinking of the same person.  
  
But this was a different situation entirely, and Angel knew it. She knew it was partly her own past circumstance; her reversion to redemption, that had convinced him Wes was the injured party here. He was certain something inside Wesley was reachable like she had been, that it wasn't too late to write him off. And Faith wanted to believe that, she really did.  
  
She knew she and Wesley both had traumatic childhoods to account more than a little to their downward spiral. She didn't know enough about Wesley's past to make judgements, but she knew his father had been hard on him. But whereas hers had been a cry for help and attention, Wesley was simply. cruel. He did what he did. because he did.  
  
They had been launching a harbour attack a few years after the initial invasion, trying to put-off the inevitable L.A. takeover as much as possible. Faith had joined forces with Angel and his crew by this point, and Wesley had been welcomed back into the fold after the incident with Connor.  
  
Why he did it, she would never really know - she reluctantly admitted - as much as she wanted to believe him as evil and nothing less. She ought to know better than anyone that nothing was as black and white as Good and Evil. Most of the time it was just grey.  
  
But he had alerted the vamps, and some of the crew had lost their lives.  
  
Namely Fred, Lorne. And Connor.  
  
Gunn's coal black eyes had grown cold and slitted.  
  
"I was willin to stand back when this was your issue, man. When it was Connor and you forgave him, I could let it go. It was your call, not mine. But it's his fault that." He stammered, and Faith felt bad for how she'd treated him. He paused, and when he spoke again, it was in a firm, steady voice. "Fred is dead because of him. And I ain't never forgivin him for that."  
  
Angel looked away. "We can't even be sure he really did it - at least intentionally, anyway", he murmured softly.  
  
Faith was glancing between the men uncomfortably, mentally willing Angel not to push Gunn any further.  
  
"We never got the full story. We all make mistakes." His voice was determined. "Wesley was a part of our team, Gunn. And I'm not ready to give up on family".  
  
Gunn lunged so fast Faith couldn't hope to stop him, and he slammed Angel roughly against the brick wall aligned by the table. Slight jeers and hoots met with this sudden burst of violence, but other than that the attack went unnoticed.  
  
Gunn was trembling as he tightened his fistful of Angel's shirt. "You BASTARD!" he roared. "I'll never call him a member of my family, EVER! He killed her, he killed your own goddamn SON and look at you, do you even give a shit? DO YOU?!"  
  
"Gunn", Faith gently grabbed his arm, but he shrugged her violently off and backed away from Angel in disgust. Angel meanwhile, faced his enraged friend's wrath square on, and didn't so much as blink at his line of insults. Faith had to admire that.  
  
Gunn shook his head once more, then stalked for the door. "You do this, and you're just as bad as he is", he tossed over his shoulder as he went.  
  
Faith closed her eyes, and then turned to Angel when he was gone. He waved a dismissive hand before she could speak. "Don't, Faith", he warned. "Just. don't".  
  
Faith couldn't help but put in her own little digs as well. "Well what did you expect?" she retorted accusingly. "You bring it up like it's the most casual thing in the world, and we're talking about releasing the same person who killed the guy's freakin girlfriend." She clapped her hands together with sarcastic bravado. "Smart, Angel. Real smart."  
  
He scowled at her. "We don't know anything", he snapped. "Would you have preferred it if I'd given up on you this easily?" He sighed. "Look, I can do this with or without your help, Faith. You said no, then fine. I'll just find someone else."  
  
Faith rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, Angel, you're not doing this without me. No one else has been inside and survived and you know it."  
  
He gave her a long look. "But that isn't going to change your mind, is it?"  
  
Faith sighed. "I know. I owe the guy some loyalty. He used to visit me sometimes, back before." she trailed off. "And you know I owe you even a whole lot more. So I'll swallow my pride on this one", she conceded unwillingly. "But he steps a foot outta line, and he has to deal with me, got it?"  
  
He nodded with a weak smile. "Got it. Hey, a slayer on his back should set him straight, right?"  
  
"Is that word even plural anymore?" Faith muttered unthinkingly under her breath, but Angel heard her. His face darkened, and she swallowed. There were only so many subjects taboo with the guy and Buffy was definitely one of them.  
  
"Angel", she began repentantly, and then stopped. "No, you know what? I don't have to feel guilty for that. It's true, isn't it? And without the Council anymore, you're lookin' at the one last slayer standing, is my bet".  
  
He went very quiet.  
  
Remind me to just keep my trap shut next time, she thought uncomfortably.  
  
Faith slumped back into her chair dejectedly, yearning to follow Gunn's retreat path herself now. Angel sighed deeply, sensing this, and his eyes trailed out onto the hopping dance floor, away from her.  
  
"I've lived a long time, Faith", he murmured softly, and she was relieved to hear his voice had returned to that almost gentle way he used with her.  
  
"I've seen a lot of things, and not much would surprise me, considering all that", he continued with conviction. "But you know something? I never underestimated Buffy. Where she's concerned? Anything is possible".  
  
Faith licked her lips. "Angel. it's nice that you believe that, it really is. But it's been six years now. Six years. Don't you think. if she was alive. we would have heard about it?"  
  
"I have to believe in something", he muttered quietly.  
  
Faith closed her eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess you do".  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
The darkness silhouetted the man's face as he stood quietly observing in the shadows of night, and he took a guarded step backwards as the curvy figure of the young woman slinked past his position.  
  
She was a pretty one, no doubt about that, but he sensed something about her that stilled his instinctive urge to follow her, even though he had been watching her since she had left Prophecy half an hour ago. He had noticed it back in that bar, and the more he let the feeling sink in, the more it disturbed him.  
  
She was a vampire slayer.  
  
He had plenty of experience with slayers, of course he did. He had fought enough of them in his lifetime to be familiar with them.  
  
Instead, he watched her departing outline with his chalky blue eyes narrowed, and then turned his attention to the apartment building that she was about to enter. His honed senses were conscious of the presences of others inside, but the sensation was weak, due to the vampire invitation rite that encased the entire building. A foreboding intelligence in him told him that the building was also heavily doused in holy water, as if the earth beneath was tainted with it, and the entire area was sacrosanct.  
  
The whole situation appalled him.  
  
But he was curious by nature, and it would usually have only intrigued him further by the obvious fact that these people knew what they were doing when it came to vampires. He hadn't met many of them since the whole invasion had started, and they always presented a welcome challenge.  
  
Truth be told, the invasion was slightly boring to him.  
  
Everything was too easy, vampires had complete control, and if one excluded that bloody creepy law firm that was in charge of these parts, the humans most certainly did not.  
  
These people were different. And he had his very strong suspicions as to who they were. He also assumed he knew who that brassy brunette slayer was that had just graced him with her presence not two minutes earlier.  
  
And the man that trailed behind her now, who the vampire watched slide past with his lip curling over in distaste.  
  
Oh, it was them all right, and he did not welcome their return to his life.  
  
Spike decided something had to be done about it.  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
TBC 


	2. Black and White

AUTHOR: Teenwitch  
  
EMAIL: Teenwitch_feedback@msn.com  
  
DISCLAIMER: No I don't own them, but if I did the world would be a better place.  
  
SUMMARY: This is a story of lost identities and the struggle to discover who it is you really are.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: In answer to some reader's questions, let's just say I like the idea of Wesley having a dark side. And as for Spike? All I can say is to sit tight. All will be revealed.  
  
SPOILERS: Anything and everything.  
  
DISTIBUTION: This story's for all. Anybody can feel free to put it on their site if they let me know about it first. And please do, because I would love to have some work posted!  
  
FEEDBACK: You know you want to.  
  
RATING: R  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
Bottom line is, even if you see them coming, you're not ready for the big moments. -'Becoming'  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
BROKEN WORLD SERIES -  
  
Part Two: Black and White  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
The whitewashed prison walls were grey and bland, bleak and oppressive - just as he felt.  
  
He stirred in a troubled sleep as the steel black bars beside his head rattled loudly.  
  
"GET UP, YOU TRASH!"  
  
It took Wesley Wyndham-Price a long moment to realise the command was not directed specifically at him, but at everyone cramped in the dank, cramped enclosure. Prisoners slowly stirred, taking their time, and an impatient glower covered the ridged face of the vampire guard as he held forward a long metal pole Wesley recognised as a tazer.  
  
No time-honoured baton for us then, he thought humourlessly.  
  
He rose unsteadily to his feet all the same, recognising the situation as an irregularity in his day-to-day ritual and welcoming the change. Of course there was the off possibility they were all about to be hauled off down towards the torture chamber - a place that held a less than unfamiliar title for Wesley -, but something in the air made him doubt it.  
  
The watcher stumbled on unsteady legs as he was shoved roughly after the others, the prisoners all filling out in an orderly fashion that he thought quite ludicrous, for all his thoughts on prisons. But a standard prison, this was certainly not.  
  
He realised with a start that the other holding cells were being emptied, all along the corridor on this block, and he dimly wondered what was going on.  
  
"Stop here!" the guard barked, slamming his weapon hard against the bars of a nearby cell, so loudly several of the closest prisoners jumped. Wesley didn't twitch. He refused to show weakness in front of these abhorrent creatures, who were so readily convinced they were master. Just for that, he thought them rather naïve.  
  
They were roughly jostled together into what could be called a line, with the repulsive odours of dirt, urine and sweat mingled together in the air. It was easily apparent most of the inmates were starving, and more than a few were having difficulty just standing up. By the dejection and utter misery on their faces, it was even clearer most of their spirits had been broken a long time ago.  
  
Wesley glanced at the men standing on either side of him. The space around them was so crammed and dark he could barely make them out through the obscurity. The one to his left had his clothing in virtual rags, and from beneath what remained of his ratty shirt Wesley could see clearly protruding ribs, and deep gash marks down his chest. The man was muttering to himself under his breath, and obviously one of the fortunate few that had indeed lost his mind.  
  
The man on his other side stood at a slouch, a deep scowl lining his features, but looking to be in remarkably good health. Wesley recognized him as Holmes, a man of perhaps forty who had been here nearly since the invasion's beginning. He decided to take a chance.  
  
"Do you know what's going on?" the Englishman murmured in his rough, grating voice. It had been awhile since he'd had the need to speak to somebody.  
  
Holmes chuckled cynically, shaking his long oily black hair back and forth. "Slave tradin', is what it is", he responded flatly.  
  
Wesley frowned, and kept his voice low as a guard drew nearer.  
  
"What?"  
  
Holmes kept his eyes focused forward. "Slave tradin'", he repeated in what sounded like a Texan drawl.  
  
Don't even think about that, Wesley snapped to himself quickly.  
  
"They don't come in 'ere much any mores, unless its by request of some top- notch vamp or what. They look for a few inmates to take with 'em to do whatever work they need doin'".  
  
Wesley rubbed the thick brown beard marring his chin in curiosity. "Do they come back?"  
  
Holmes shrugged. "Mostly not. Most of 'em don't make it out there two days. Sometimes they come back. But if you ask me, it's better for you when you're Inside. None of them who comes back is ever the same again. They says they treat 'em real bad out there, use 'em up until they're as good as dead."  
  
Wesley nodded, turning away again now he had his information. Wasn't this interesting? Certainly a route of escape he hadn't had before, perhaps the only chance he'd get for a long time. Holmes had said himself these slave traders didn't come often anymore.  
  
As if on cue, the electronic door bleeped, and slid jerkily open. Striding in with all the confidence swagger of his kind was the slave trader Holmes had spoken of, flanked on either side by lackeys clad in dark leather and baring the vampire countenance. Only this man sported his human features.  
  
The vampire stopped shortly in front of the afflicted prisoners, wrinkling his nose in unhidden disgust. Wesley disliked him immediately. It wasn't his disgust that annoyed him - he could even understand it. He didn't need a mirror to see how ghastly the group of them must look. No, there was something else. Something that set him apart from the typical vampire leader.  
  
The guard in charge of this block stepped over to quickly converge with him, and as they spoke the vampire's steely gaze travelled over the group callously.  
  
His eyes settled on Wesley for a time, and instead of averting his gaze, Wesley met his eyes staunchly.  
  
The vampire interrupted the guard mid-speech. "I've seen all I need to", he said briskly.  
  
The burly guard tried to hide his annoyance. "But really, sir -"  
  
" - I SAID we're done here", he cut in snappishly, eyes flashing superciliously.  
  
The guard nodded hastily. "Yes sir".  
  
The vampire held up a hand before his fellows could retreat the dimly lit corridor. "Wait", he yelled domineeringly.  
  
They hesitated. "Sir?" one inquired humbly. The vampire's cool gaze fell once more onto Wesley.  
  
"That one".  
  
Wesley felt his body stir. Holmes nudged him painfully in the side.  
  
"I'd move forward, boy", he hissed. "He asked for you, and you'd better do as he says".  
  
When Wesley hesitated despite himself, two vampires moved abruptly forward, grasping him by the upper arms and sandwiching him between them. Their fingers dug into his bony shoulders, and they shoved him roughly along the corridor. "MOVE!"  
  
Wesley staggered at the jolt to his empty stomach, and his long unused legs buckled beneath him. His body slammed stiffly against the hard concrete floor, and something snapped in his nose as his face caught the brunt.  
  
Arms tugged jerkily at his armpits. "Get up!" one of the vampires snapped pitilessly, driving the toe of his boot forcefully into Wesley's stomach.  
  
Wesley collapsed against the ground, grunting at the pain. The man moved to do so again, when another presence came between them.  
  
The leader held up a warning hand.  
  
"That'll do", he ordered rigidly. "We want him out alive."  
  
The vampire bowed his head. "Sir", he muttered.  
  
The leader narrowed his eyes down at Wesley kneeling unsteadily by his feet. Wesley glared back, spitting out a dribble of blood from between his lips as he did.  
  
The leader sneered, but there was something behind his gaze Wesley didn't understand. Almost. hatred.  
  
"Take him with the others".  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
They treat us like we're sheep.  
  
The thought abruptly entered Buffy's mind, as she stood back, bathed in the building shadows, watching the sweep take place. Her heart thundered so rapidly she was sure they would be able to hear it, but the screams of the vampire's captives blocked out all other sound, even to her own ears.  
  
This was wrong. Her entire being screamed it, the slayer was involuntarily caged within as she watched with wide frightened eyes, unable to tear her gaze away. There was nothing she could do to prevent it - the sinister long black guns the vampires seized were more than enough evidence of that.  
  
Nothing but watch.  
  
Buffy shook her head, turning away, blocking her ears to the sound. There was no way she could even do that. She could feel her self-control slipping slowly away minute by minute, and willed herself to walk on before the vampires were finished. Not all of the people out there would be imprisoned. She had intimate knowledge that for some, far more terrible fates awaited them.  
  
She breathed in deeply, sliding with soundless efficiency down the narrow alley, struggling to follow the map imprinted permanently in her mind's eye.  
  
Angel.  
  
That one small word was the very testament to her existence. A connection to her past, to her life, her fleeting times of innocence. The knowledge that he still lived was more than enough to urge her onward.  
  
It hadn't been easy. Ryan had born very little information regarding his whereabouts as it was, and was even less than thrilled to reveal them to her. Apparently Ryan had a brother who had met with some of Angel's contacts once or twice. It was a long shot, but a connection, and Buffy clung to it like a lifeline.  
  
She had cajoled this brother's address out of Ryan, and it turned out Mike, as his name was, had an idea about where Angel might be holed up.  
  
So here she was.  
  
She paused in front of an apartment building shrouded in night; mentally going over the list of instructions Mike had given her. This had to be it.  
  
What if he doesn't want to see me? she thought worriedly. What if he. blames me?  
  
Like I already blame myself.  
  
Drawing in another soothing breath, Buffy slowly stepped up to the front doorstep, shaking away her doubts. There would be time enough for that.  
  
She chewed her lower lip uncertainty, and then she raised her curled fist to the wood-panelled door before her, and knocked. After a long tense moment, the hatch above the door slid open. Two suspicious almond shaped eyes glared back out at her.  
  
"What do you want?" a gruff male voice demanded impatiently.  
  
Buffy's resolve wavered. "I'm looking for. for an old friend of mine", she started cautiously. "Angel?"  
  
Reservation sparked in the man's dark eyes, and then it was gone just as quickly. "No one here by that name", he declared, in a monotone dull voice.  
  
Buffy sighed with a hint of desperation. "I'm not one of them, if that's what you're thinking".  
  
If he needed any assurance, she lifted her leather jacket away from her shirt, and withdrew a small silver cross that was hidden beneath. His purpose didn't falter, and she didn't blame him. There were many humans that actually subjected themselves under the vampire's law, for what little security and temporary survival it would provide. For all he knew, she was one of them.  
  
From what she had heard, Angel was still very much a wanted man in the vampire world. He had caused enough damage to be a notorious threat to them, even with the extent his offensive had been forced to back down.  
  
Her eyes were pleading as they bore into the man's. "Please", she appealed softly. "You can ask him. My name is Buffy Summers. He'll know me".  
  
The guy actually sighed then, a sound world-weary and tired. "Look, he's not here right now", he admitted unenthusiastically. "He's down at Sector 7H Penitentiary."  
  
Buffy frowned. "He's not a -"  
  
She could see the movement as he hastily shook his head. "Not a prisoner. He's. doing a job down there. If you are who you say you are. well, I'm sure he'll want to see you".  
  
Buffy looked at him. "You've heard of me?"  
  
He chuckled. "Who hasn't heard of you, sweetheart", he noted wryly. "You're infamous in these parts."  
  
Buffy's eyebrows knotted together in confusion. "I'm not sure I understand".  
  
She could see actual sympathy etched behind the mysterious man's stare. "You seem like a nice girl, you really do", he told her gently. "I've heard him defend you to them. and well, Angel knows people, so I'd trust his word. But others. they don't understand that easily. I wouldn't go saying that name of yours around here, sweetie."  
  
Buffy frowned at him. She didn't like where this was going. Not at all.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
He closed his eyes a moment. "The city thinks you're dead", he acknowledged. "And. and well." he trailed off. A sinking feeling dragged at Buffy's stomach.  
  
"Well what?" she prodded frantically.  
  
He met her eyes honestly. "Its better for you if you stay that way."  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
Rain drizzled down idly as she fell down to a crouch beside Angel in the thick shrubbery, and Faith tugged the black hat concealing most of her brunette locks further down her forehead. The high grey stonewalls of the Sector 7H Penitentiary loomed not a hundred yards from where they waited, at the back entrance to the outer fence, and she was confronted with an eerie sense of déjà vu that was making her snappy.  
  
"Aren't we glad it's wet season", she muttered grouchily to herself.  
  
Angel's attention was riveted entirely on the activity going on at the high walled prison in front of them, and he barely acknowledged she had spoken.  
  
"Mmm", he murmured distractedly.  
  
Faith scowled, and snatched at the binoculars fastened in his grasp. "Where the hell did you manage to scrounge up these things, anyway?" she asked as she adjusted her eyesight and swept them slowly out over the prison gates.  
  
She heard Angel chuckle lightly beside her. Her mood wasn't lost on him. "We all have our ways", he responded cryptically.  
  
She spared him a wry look. "So you stole them, huh?"  
  
"Pretty much".  
  
The small team he had assembled together shifted impatiently behind the conversing pair. "Man, when we gonna see some action?" an African American called Mark virtually whined.  
  
Faith snickered. "Speaking of scrounging up." she jibed in a low derisive voice.  
  
She narrowed her eyes, focusing her attention more closely on the scene playing out before her. She clenched the binoculars more tightly, and adjusted the dial on the side. An unmarked white mover's van had pulled up to the front gates, and already she could see the stirrings of movement behind the sturdy metal bars.  
  
Faith squinted closer, curiosity burning overtime. A pair of strong, burly guards emerged, guns joggling in front of them at something she couldn't see. A moment later a grungy group of prisoners came into her line of sight, and they were hustled toward the twin doors of the motionless van with aggressive haste.  
  
She frowned. "What the.?"  
  
Her gaze fell upon one of the prisoners in particular; features grim and loathing as he was shoved violently inside the van. His face was heavily lined with sweat and grime, and concealed by a thick black beard that gave him a roughness that was so unlike him, but Faith recognised him instantly.  
  
"Shit".  
  
Angel twisted around as she slapped him hard on the chest, and paused in mid-speech to look at her in concern. "Faith? What? What's wrong?"  
  
She gritted her jaw, shaking her head roughly for emphasis. "Man, I don't *believe* this." She met his gaze, pursing her lips in a thin straight line. "I think we might have a little problem".  
  
Wordlessly, she forfeited the binoculars, and Angel accepted the offer quickly when he noticed her expression. His mouth opened and closed in disbelief when he caught sight of their 'little problem'.  
  
"What. What are they doing?"  
  
Faith puffed warm air into her cupped palms, and chafed them together thoughtfully. "Take a guess?" she deduced austerely. "I'd say they're transferring him somewhere".  
  
Angel's brow creased on his handsome chiselled profile. "That doesn't explain why there's so many of them".  
  
She moved her shoulders offhandedly. "I don't know then, maybe they're a new workgroup or something".  
  
Angel's gaze momentarily flickered to her. "Workgroup?"  
  
"Sure. They ain't as old fashioned as you'd like to believe, Angel cakes", she told him somewhat wisely. "They aren't as common as they used to be mind you, but some of the vamps get away with using the humans as practically slaves. Provided they got enough influence, friends in high places an' all that."  
  
Angel's features hardened noticeably as he trained on something else through the binoculars, and a muscle in his neck twitched. "I think we just found our culprit", he bit off hatefully.  
  
"What?"  
  
Without asking, she grabbed the binoculars back, and raised them to her dark eyes to scan the horizon. They hovered uncertainly over the prisoners, until she caught sight of a long leather duster and stopped.  
  
Not the latest in trendy prison wear. she mused.  
  
Then her view slid up slowly to meet the wearer's face and Faith gasped.  
  
"That's. that's the dude from back at the bar", she hissed incredulously.  
  
Confusion took in Angel's expression. "Faith. That's Spike".  
  
"WHAT?!"  
  
She stared back at the vampire, yet even as she did her mind flashed back to that night at the Bronze all those years ago, their one and only meeting - and even then she hadn't exactly been. herself. An overpowering sense of realisation brought her up short, and her fists clenched and unclenched by her sides.  
  
"Oh my God."  
  
That odd sensation she'd felt at Prophecy now made perfect sense. As a slayer, she'd never exactly been proficient at the whole sensing gig, but there was some innate wisdom inside her that recognized it's natural enemy, and there had definitely been some warning bells going off then. But something about Spike had felt. off. Different from usual.  
  
In her typical form, Faith shrugged it off.  
  
"Am I the only one that feels like punching somebody?" she grunted through a tightened jaw.  
  
"Doesn't it seem a little off to you that this is happening right now, just when we're about to break this friend of yours out?" Mark piped up perceptively.  
  
Faith's glance ticked over to him in surprise. "How do you mean?"  
  
"Well, think about it", he insisted. "I may not know any better, but this doesn't feel like a coincidence".  
  
"He's right", Angel realised quietly.  
  
Faith clamped her fist none to softly against her palm. "And here you had me thinkin' tonight was gonna be touch and go on the violence."  
  
Angel nodded slowly. "Okay. Let's do this". He spared her an uncertain glance. "You ready?"  
  
Faith tensed. She hadn't been willing to admit it to herself before, but she was jonesing for some serious action. Despite the fact that she was relieved the vampires hadn't been much of a problem to humanity in general for the past few weeks, she had been getting restless for a good long time now.  
  
The dark haired slayer gave a short nod, and grinned; flashing him her gleaming white teeth in response as a powerful thrill shot up her spine.  
  
"Like hell I am".  
  
They charged.  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
Wesley caught a harsh jab in his back as he was elbowed impatiently into the van, and he stifled a sneer of revulsion at the bodies being quickly crammed in behind him. He never thought he would see the day where he would miss what small solitariness there was in his congested confining cell. The rain was dripping off him now, and washing through the smells of the prisoners, which made for a very unpleasant stench.  
  
That was when chaos erupted. Literally.  
  
One of the vampires supervising their boarding progress gave a startled howl as he reared forward from some invisible attacker, and his mouth fell open in surprise as his eyes travelled disbelievingly downward. Wesley followed his gaze to see a sharp jagged arrow jutting from his chest. He doubled over, but he was dust before he hit the ground.  
  
"Stand on your guard!" one of the guards screamed, unholstering his weapon and swivelling frantically to discover the source of attack. Something whizzed past, striking him in the shoulder, and the gun flew from his grasp at the impact.  
  
They weren't trained for this kind of assault, Wesley could see that. It certainly gave whomever these attackers were the one up on the situation. The prisoners stood while this was going on in dumbstruck wonder, but Wesley acted immediately. He dove through a gap in the crowd, slamming onto his knees on the road surface at the foot of the van.  
  
Guns were going off in all directions, and none of the vampires noticed him as he crawled along the ground on his hands and knees. He grinned in success when his fingers closed around the wounded vampire's long forgotten weapon. Fumbling clumsily, he raised the gun, pointing it at the closest vampire, and fired.  
  
The attackers emerged from their hiding.  
  
Gun smoke burnt in his eyes and Wesley ducked behind the van, blinking furiously to clear them. A wild banshee shriek pierced into the still night, and then a figure was lunging through the air, feet flying, spinning into a flawlessly executed roundhouse kick that downed two of the closest vampires.  
  
It could only be one person.  
  
Faith saw him watching, and paused to give him a sarcastic little wave. "Hey baby", she cooed abrasively. "How you been?"  
  
She twisted around as another guard clasped her roughly by the forearm, and shot out with an irritated expression, the crossbow still rested firmly between her hands. She didn't even have to remove the bolt.  
  
She approached Wesley at a run, clutching him quickly by the elbow and tugging him to his feet, covering herself by sweeping her weapon around warily the entire time. "I'll save you the time and say you're welcome", she snapped brusquely.  
  
"Faith!" another, much more familiar voice shouted hoarsely.  
  
Wesley gritted his teeth and a wave of animosity claimed him before he could stop it.  
  
But of course.  
  
Angel neared through the furious battle, jerking his thumb in the opposite direction. "We have to get out of here. Now!"  
  
"Not gonna argue", Faith gasped, skilfully reloading the crossbow while keeping her gaze planted firmly on the vampires. They were occupied by the fight, but it wouldn't be long now. "Vamps are rolling in here like freakin oranges".  
  
She sidled over to the still stationary white van, and slammed her flat palm rigidly against the metal door with a short grin of amusement.  
  
She's really enjoying this, Wesley noted imperturbably, unusually detached from the scene. In his mind, there was no way this could really be happening.  
  
It had been five years. Five long years he had been trapped there now. Transferred from other prisons, of course, but they were all the same. With their high grey stonewalls and infinitesimal drab wards, closing in like the dungeon rooms in ancient castles, or as he had imagined them. He thought it was more poetic to think of them that way. A poetic end for a traitor.  
  
What a load of rubbish that was.  
  
They weren't coming, they never were, he knew it. Wesley hadn't ever expected them to. He was a deserter, the lowest of low, the most deplorable of sinners. He was Judas, as Lilah had once told him in her most satirical way of humour.  
  
He stifled the urge to laugh now as a deep, overwhelming bitterness filled him.  
  
Yet here they are.  
  
"Come on, kids", Faith bellowed throatily to the occupants of the vehicle. "Time to get the hell out of dodge!"  
  
The prisoners needed no further encouragement as they raced from the van and haphazardly down the street, as if in some sort of daze and clearly not a bit mindful of the flying bullets piercing the air all around them.  
  
"Hey!" one of the guards yelled loudly in protest.  
  
"Oh, shut up", Faith said tiredly, pointing the crossbow on him, knowing that most of the prisoners would be lucky to survive. It was an aloofness they had all learned to live with, unfortunately.  
  
Apprehension tickled at Wesley's neck as he stood on unsteady feet, Faith's fingers still pinching tightly into his flesh, and as he turned around, he knew it was too late.  
  
Faith doubled up in astonishment, and the crossbow cluttered harmlessly to the concrete at her feet as she released her grip on his arm. Her hands encircled the wound on her hip, and her mouth opened and closed in mute shock as blood began to seep across her dark shirt.  
  
"Faith!" Angel cried distressfully.  
  
Both men turned to see the cause.  
  
Spike grinned coldly, but his eyes held a deep hatred ridged with something else, something unreadable, as he met his Sire's glare unflinching. His black duster fluttered out behind him as he strode purposefully towards them, gun falling innocuously against his side and still smoking from the shot.  
  
"Well well", the blonde vampire spoke up calmly, stuffing his free palm into his pocket. "Isn't this a surprise? It's the old Sire and all his merry mates."  
  
Wesley was struck by a startling sense of realisation. This was the lead vampire that had chosen him.  
  
And now he knew why.  
  
"You bastard", Faith spat, nursing her wound painfully as she slammed her back against the white van's side for support.  
  
Spike shrugged at her unsympathetically. "All's far in war and. well war, luv. Nothing personal or anything".  
  
She struck up her middle finger, but her ashen face belayed her attitude. "Bite me".  
  
"Spike", Angel spat frostily, as the creature he had created came to a stop not three metres from where he stood.  
  
Spike's pale features slipped into a sly grin of triumph. "Oh, don't give me that look, Peaches. And please tell me we're about to skip the whole cliché I-Nancy-boy-hair-gel-deprived-good-guy, You-bad-guy pitch?"  
  
Angel's eyes flashed dangerously. "I'm amazed you're still alive at all."  
  
Spike shrugged. "Well, I wasn't about to hit the high-road just because the good ol' Buffs had kicked it and SunnyD became official vampire territory", he retorted edgily. "I got an unlife to go on with. Just needed a proper excuse to stretch my legs and leave home for good, that's all."  
  
Faith's eyes had glazed over and she clutched at her stomach with a low groan, but her eyes drifted up to look at him unsteadily. "You're not a regular vampire", she declared hoarsely, familiar feeling fluttering up in her stomach. She was so sore she could barely identify it.  
  
Spike gave a grin, but there was a new uneasiness behind the expression. "That should make a bloke right flattered.  
  
"Must say, I'm sure you would have made a nummy treat back at that bar, too", he added impishly. "Would have tested it out, if I didn't have the little issue of you being a slayer to contend with, unfortunately."  
  
"He has a chip in his head", Angel explained to her, fingers closing around the battle-axe hanging by his side as he ignored the arrogant vampire's last statement. "What, did it malfunction or something?"  
  
Spike's upper brow lowered threateningly. "Something like that".  
  
He whistled through his teeth as he morphed into game face and the other vampires instantly fanned out, circling the three of them mercilessly. Faith let out a sound like a moan and Wesley glanced behind the approaching threat of the vampires to see the broken bodies of their team, all spread arbitrarily along the gravel road.  
  
All dead.  
  
Water droplets glistened over the ridge of Spike's brow, but he didn't seem to notice as he observed them all with a vague lack of concern. He ran his black fingernailed hands lovingly over the lethal-looking long black gun that he had just used on Faith. "You know, I wish it didn't have to end this way, I really do", he commented casually.  
  
Faith coughed, eyes scrunched firmly closed in her pain. "You set this up, didn't you, you prick?"  
  
Spike shrugged. "What would make you say that?"  
  
Angel shook his head, but there was helplessness in his eyes and, Wesley thought, fear. His anger easily conquered it, and he quivered from head to foot as he stifled the urge to raise his weapon.  
  
"What is this, Spike?" he asked, waving his arms around for emphasis. "You knew we were coming. So you set up an ambush? I thought you'd given up trying to get to the slayer and all of her friends?"  
  
Spike glared at him hatefully. "I have my reasons".  
  
"Wouldn't have something to do with Buffy, would it?" Wesley guessed quietly.  
  
Spike turned on him, and his expression was truly dangerous. "What would you know of it?" He paused, considering, and then pointed the gun on him. "I think I'll kill you first", he snapped. "After all, there's irony to be had in that, considering you're the reason we're all here in the first place".  
  
Wesley met his gaze unflinchingly, straightening to his full height. He spread his arms wide. "Go ahead".  
  
Faith snorted in disbelief. "Oh, that's real terrific, Wes. Loving the suicide trip you got goin on".  
  
Spike made to check his watch. "Um, yeah. Tick tock, people. Are you quite done? It's a little past dinnertime, and I would usually love to go in for a slayer, cept I don't fancy having you as the main course now you're all. pasty".  
  
Faith spat at him. "Fuck you".  
  
Spike raised the barrel. "Yeah, well. Bad luck. Its time to say goodnight. Any last words, regrets?" He sneered at Angel. "I'm sure you'll have more than a few, but it's only fair to wait your turn."  
  
"I have one".  
  
Everyone stopped short at the sound of the voice.  
  
A strange tingling sensation started at Wesley's neck, and Angel's back grew ramrod straight as his former employer tensed visibly.  
  
Was that.? It couldn't be.  
  
Her.  
  
She slowly detached herself from the shadows of the road ahead, long blonde hair fluttering behind her and glimmering in the faint iridescence of the prison lights that shined over the high walls, like golden silk. Her features were just visible in the silver moonlight as she turned to face them, fingering a stake lightly in her grasp, which was hidden from view as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest.  
  
Well now, isn't this interesting.  
  
"But of course, I get the feeling me being here already has enough dramatic irony in itself', she went on quietly. "And I wouldn't want to upstage you or anything, Spike".  
  
"Oh God", Angel whispered disbelievingly.  
  
Spike swallowed, and his grip on the weapon actually faltered.  
  
"B-Buffy?"  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
TBC 


	3. Salted Wounds

~*~*~*~*  
  
The more you live in this world, the more you see how apart from it you really are. -'Becoming'.  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
BROKEN WORLD SERIES -  
  
Part Three: Salted Wounds  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
"Buffy."  
  
The name slipped between his lips a mere whisper, but her green eyes flickered toward him and Angel knew that she'd heard. The corners of her mouth twitched up just slightly at him, not enough to be considered a smile.  
  
She's not dead.  
  
His whole body went rigid with incredulity and relief, and he could do nothing but stare. But there was something different about her that he noticed, and that bothered him. She seemed. cooler. Distanced.  
  
"Hey guys", she spoke softly. "It's been a long time".  
  
Faith grunted, shifting along the gravel with her arm pressed firmly against her side, and blinked up at the older slayer in mild disbelief.  
  
"B?" she murmured haltingly, swaying faintly. She didn't look too good. "You're not. dead?" Her features had grown the shade of ash, and a thin layer of sweat lined her hairline and beaded down her brow.  
  
Buffy shrugged, and her gaze swept over to the vampire Spike, who was staring at her with a paleness that had nothing to do with his vampirism.  
  
"To some people I am."  
  
She stepped closer to the group, until the vampires nearest budged warningly, barring her way further. They not only sensed what she was, but had heard an assortment of amazing tales surrounding this foreboding young woman, and it discomforted them instantly to know she was alive, and in their midst.  
  
Spike's Adam's apple bobbed convulsively, and his free arm strayed fretfully to his blonde hair, then to his side again, as if he had no idea what to do with it. Angel peeled his eyes away long enough to see that the peroxide vampire was staring at the slayer himself, and it wasn't with the fear of a lesser, or the arrogance of an adversary. It was. something else.  
  
Something Angel found more than vaguely disturbing.  
  
Buffy also noticed Spike's evident unease - it was actually quite difficult to miss -, and her eyes narrowed together with a loathing Angel had never seen her direct at another person before.  
  
"What's the matter, Spike?" she said harshly. "Do you speak, or do I have to pull a string first?"  
  
This seemed to snap Spike out of whatever peculiar funk her unexpected reappearance had put him into. He straightened, and the knuckles closed around the gun grew white from the newfound force of his grip.  
  
"Buffy", he said slowly, as if drawing the word out. He sighed heavily, an unnecessary display of breath. "You're alive", he observed flatly.  
  
Buffy acknowledged this with a sharp tilt of her eyebrow. "So are you. And, note my surprise, doesn't look like you're batting home team".  
  
"He ever *was*?" Faith snorted disdainfully. Despite her pain, she clearly wasn't done with the jibes, and Angel would have smiled, in other circumstances.  
  
Spike ignored her, but his jaw twitched when he clenched his teeth and Angel could see it took him a great effort. It was very hard to ignore Faith.  
  
"Things change", he said quietly, not leaving Buffy's gaze. "Life goes on. with or without you in it."  
  
There was a great deal of familiarity between the pair. Angel knew back in Sunnydale Spike had been considered harmless, and as so Buffy had held reservations against killing him, but there was too much. The pieces didn't fit.  
  
"It seems to me you certainly have a head start in that department", Wesley mused. There was a cutting lilt in his tone. He paused for dramatic effect.  
  
"Well, I mean considering you have a soul".  
  
Buffy didn't look surprised, but Angel gawped at the revelation that made way too much sense. "Excuse me?"  
  
Spike waved a hand at him. "Oh, button down a notch, Peaches", he responded dismissively. "Just because you can live in peace and harmony with the birds and the bees, doesn't mean that's the life for others of us".  
  
"How did you know that?" Angel asked Wesley cautiously.  
  
The man shrugged. "I didn't occupy my prison time entirely in exile. I studied the occult, mildly, mind you. I could sense the change".  
  
Faith coughed pointedly. Angel pretended he hadn't heard her. There was no use going into Wesley's morals right at this moment.  
  
"You have a soul", Buffy spat. "Yet you killed all of those innocent people. God knows how long it's been happening. I didn't do anything all those years ago because I thought you could be saved like." Her eyes ticked over to Angel's, and quickly averted again. "But I was wrong. You're worse than all of those. I was wrong to believe anything could be good about you."  
  
Spike rolled his eyes, and threw the gun to the ground beside him. "Wrong? You weren't wrong, pet, I just had a great moment of clarity. Made my life a whole lot simpler too, I can tell you. Allow me to make this simpler for *you*, luv. I mean that's what you want, innit? Make this easy on yourself?"  
  
He stepped closer, and the vampires made way for him. He was their leader, and he had clearly reverted back to form if their obedience was anything to go by.  
  
He stopped in front of Buffy, and her green eyes travelled up to meet his face.  
  
"I trusted you with them", she hissed in a low voice only he could hear. "I trusted you to get them out of town alive that night".  
  
Spike looked at her squarely. "They got out alive", he responded chillingly. "What interests me is the fact that you've been gone six years without a word, and then you decide its time to blame ol' Spike when you've got a bloody bit to answer for yourself. If they're dead, it's not my pretty little head it'll be hangin' over".  
  
He was asking for an explanation, and though she knew he didn't deserve it, he wouldn't be the only one.  
  
"I only did what no one else could", she snapped evasively instead.  
  
He rolled his eyes. "Yeah. You stayed back to act the hero bit while I got the Nibs and all else out of town. Safely too, I might add. I was never expected to play baby-sitter to 'em once we were out. I did my job, just like you asked. I always did what you asked.  
  
"Don't soften up on me, kitten. If we're gonna go at it, you might as well get straight to the killing, hmm?"  
  
"Then how's this for a signal?"  
  
Faith's voice cut into Buffy and Spike's heated exchange, before a gunshot echoed loudly off the cavernous walls. Spike slumped to the ground, and his features once again morphed into the vampire countenance as he shot his hand out to where the bullet had impacted his shoulder in surprise.  
  
"How does that feel?" the younger slayer taunted him.  
  
Faith glared at him coldly with the rifle cradled awkwardly in her arms, and then she collapsed. Angel quickly caught her in his arms.  
  
That was all the signal the other vampires apparently needed to attack.  
  
Startled, Buffy had been staring down at a now wounded Spike, and her delayed reaction gave him a great advantage on her when he launched his offensive.  
  
Buffy caught a blow from Spike's fist hard in the chin, and the force drove her back, more out of surprise than anything else.  
  
"Still haven't learned to duck", he condemned disapprovingly, glaring down at her with what she would have almost passed as hatred, had she not known him better. It actually disturbed her how much she still knew this evil vampire.  
  
Buffy recovered quickly, circling him with intense hatred distorting her pretty features and making her truly terrifying. He had never doubted her strength before, not even behind the betraying innocence of her petite little frame and wide doe-like green eyes. But she was actually quite frightening in this state.  
  
He knew then he had never seen the look directed at him, not really. Yet the boiling rage in his gut did not fire from hatred.  
  
Much as he tried, he could not hate this beautiful creature.  
  
Even if he did have to kill her tonight.  
  
"Come on, Goldilocks", he taunted her, knowing the use of the name would only infuriate her more. His love for her had blinded not only himself, but her too, much as she would loathe to ever admitting it. It made it so much simpler to just make her hate him again. "Give it me good".  
  
"You're disgusting, Spike", she spat, and there was a flush in her cheeks that only accentuated her rage. The rain still splattered down on them, and her long blonde hair was soaked, plastered slickly to her forehead, but she didn't seem to notice. "I should have done this a long time ago. I should have stopped you before things got this far".  
  
He circled her, unable to curtail their banter so easily. "You never could kill me", he reminded her. "Not even when I was the Big Bad. What makes you think now it'll be any easier?"  
  
"It doesn't matter", she retorted. "It doesn't have to be easy. I've learnt that enough times the hard way".  
  
She was obviously through talking. She ran at him in a roundhouse kick, rearing him back at the impact. He caught her leg when she went in again, using her momentum against her to flip her to the side. Buffy dodged his next blow, ducking swiftly to the right, running full tilt at the prison wall, and she ran straight up it without missing a beat, flinging out her left leg in a kick that sent not only he, but several vampires flying.  
  
She flipped over the heads of a small cluster of startled vamps, and Spike couldn't conceal his admiration. She had always been more than a formidable opponent in the past, why had she lasted as long as she had? But now?  
  
Now she was absolutely amazing.  
  
Buffy wheezed slightly from the effort of that last manoeuvre, and spared Spike a glance over her shoulder as the vampire slowly picked himself up again. There was no time to take him out, and both knew it, for he met her gaze straight on and she swore there was a sliver of regret etched there, and not from the battle.  
  
Don't even go there.  
  
She quickly turned away, and saw Faith nearby, rolled onto her side by the white van, looking incredibly woozy as her eyes struggled to follow the actions of battle.  
  
Buffy sprinted for her, and as her eyes travelled over the fellow slayer she realised the girl had been shot in the gut.  
  
"Come on", she snapped, jerking herself into action and circling the brunette around the shoulders to help her unsteadily to her feet.  
  
Faith stared back at her through lidded brown eyes, and stumbled against Buffy dizzily. She was pretty far-gone, but something in the look gave Buffy the knowledge that the contact that had long been lost between slayers had inadvertently just been re-established.  
  
"You have to walk, Faith", Buffy told her gently, concern she thought long dead for the woman reawakening in her heart. "Can you do that?"  
  
Faith blinked. "Buff", she whispered raucously. "I'm not doin' too good".  
  
Buffy closed her eyes without replying, her heartbeat pounding in her own ears, and then scanned the area around them resolutely for some form of escape.  
  
"Use the van", a gravely voice suggested quietly by her side.  
  
Buffy twisted around abruptly, to see the man who had once been her watcher standing at the door to the vehicle pointedly. His grey eyes watched her expectantly, and she inwardly shivered at what she saw there, but if asked wouldn't have been able to explain it.  
  
He was a stranger to her now. And so were Faith and Spike.  
  
And Angel.  
  
She pushed the thought to the back of her mind. If they were going to survive, they needed to work together, friend or foe.  
  
"Good idea".  
  
She pulled Faith stiffly to the twin doors at the back, hefting her up with difficulty as her muscles cramped in her shoulders.  
  
Wesley was already behind the wheel, and she slammed the doors roughly behind her as she hopped up onto the platform inside.  
  
The engine coughed to life, and Buffy quickly dashed to the front seat, which was separated from the cabin by steel barred doorway that was firmly bolted to the wall. Buffy pulled at it, breaking it down easily with her slayer strength, and shoved it roughly aside.  
  
"Wait!" she cried to the watcher, sliding back the passenger door and feeling the cool rush of air and rain pull at her face as the car began to roll along the footpath. "We have to get Angel!"  
  
Her ex had heavily immersed himself within what remained of the vampires, which was still enough to easily outnumber the four of them, despite their combined force. Buffy reached over Wesley and blared on the horn.  
  
"ANGEL!"  
  
He saw her, and their eyes locked for a brief second, with it bringing all of their shared history like a chequered quilt - the good and the bad. Buffy shook the feeling off, and he punched aside the vampire blocking his path, and tore across the bitumen road for the van, which Wesley steered at a vastly gathering speed towards the road.  
  
His fingers grasped the doorframe and Angel boosted himself aboard, landing heavily on the floor with a rumble of his boots, and panting deeply, completely out of breath.  
  
He sagged his back against the closed door in exhaustion, but then his handsome features twisted into a smile of relief as his intense eyes took in her face once more.  
  
"Hey Buffy", he said softly. "It's good to see you".  
  
Buffy smiled faintly back. "Yeah", she murmured, unable to reveal the turmoil she felt inside. "You too".  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
It was virtual chaos when they returned to Angel Investigation's new HQ.  
  
Cordelia was there, and Buffy couldn't believe herself how relieved she was to see another familiar face. The ex-cheerleader's face blanched at the sight of the blonde vampire slayer, but then her attention was diverted by the other slayer's quickly deteriorating condition and Buffy was forgotten.  
  
There was another man Buffy dimly recalled hearing about, Charles Gunn, who helped Angel lift Faith inside, and a few others milled about, whose names she mostly forgot as soon as they were introduced to her, if they were at all.  
  
The trip to the building had been in silence, either Angel had sensed she didn't want to tell him about the past, or he had been too worn out to ask. Either way she was grateful. She wasn't ready yet. Spike had already brought up too much she didn't want to remind herself of.  
  
Cordelia cleared a low shabby sofa in the centre of the main living room, and Angel and Gunn lowered Faith down to it. She cried out in pain. Dark blood caked over her shirt and down the side of her jeans, and she was pale and drawn in the face as her teeth started to rattle uncontrollably.  
  
Cordelia took charge, confidence Buffy had never seen taking over the black haired beauty as she shooed everyone aside and ordered for some first aid supplies.  
  
Buffy stood away from the scene with unease, and the need to support her shaky legs grew too great. She slumped into a wooden chair at her back, resting her head in her hand as she shut her eyes, struggling to block out the activity going on around her.  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
The voice was infinitely gentle and warm, and she knew who it was even before she slowly raised her face again to look up at him.  
  
Angel was at a crouch on the floor in front of her, and he kindly held forward a soft blue towel. "Here".  
  
Buffy hadn't released how cold she felt until then, and accepted the offering gratefully, shivering slightly. Their hands briefly brushed, and she was surprised by the thrill of electricity that shot up her arm at the sheer contact.  
  
She looked down again, brushing a wet strand of hair from her eye with one clammy palm. Her lips were dry despite the fact that she was dripping all over Angel's kitchen floor, and she had to lick her lips before she tentatively spoke.  
  
"Is Faith okay?"  
  
The confidence had pretty much drained out of her ever since their narrow but successful escape, and she wanted more than anything to just curl up into an invisible ball and hide herself away. She didn't feel like answering questions she wasn't sure she could even answer, let alone face her former lover's kindly but wary compassion.  
  
He glanced over to where Cordelia had managed to soothe Faith into a sort of sleep, and hesitated before giving a short nod. "Cordelia will take care of her".  
  
As if she had heard, which Buffy considered knowing Cordelia she probably had, the woman's high voice curtly interrupted them.  
  
"Faith should be okay, provided we have enough painkillers to dose into her. That's our main issue here. We're low on the stuff, and she needs it, like, pronto".  
  
Her eyes had that brazen I-told-you-so look gleaming from them that was much more like the Cordelia Buffy knew, and they ticked between Angel and Buffy again with something bordering on suspicion.  
  
Angel rose to his feet away from Buffy, turning to Cordelia with a look of immense irritability, and she sensed there was some long-standing argument going on there.  
  
"There was no way to know this was going to happen, Cordelia", he said with a sigh. "I think the fact that we recovered not one, but two old friends stands as worth it".  
  
Cordelia glared. "Yeah", she retorted matter-of-factly. "And then we might just loose another."  
  
"You just said yourself that Faith is fine".  
  
"Without those pesky painkillers she soon won't be", the brunette snapped back pointedly.  
  
He clenched his jaw. "I'll take care of it, Cordy", he said tiredly.  
  
She spun away from him tightly. "You better".  
  
She paused, and glanced at Buffy over her shoulder before departing. "I'm glad you're alive, Buffy", she said quietly. But there was a hint of reproach in her tone, and Buffy wondered if she even meant it at all.  
  
Gunn wandered over after her departing back, but his dark gaze was focused more urgently on Wesley, who sat away from everyone present by the windowsill in the corner.  
  
"You were lucky, man", he said flatly. "That's all I can say."  
  
After that, he too disappeared, and Angel sighed heavily and turned back around to face Buffy again.  
  
"They didn't want you to save Wesley", she guessed shrewdly. "Did they?"  
  
Angel slowly shook his head. "They have their reasons", he admitted quietly.  
  
He turned to look at her again, more closely this time. "Your face", he observed. "You're hurt".  
  
Buffy's hand unintentionally rose to the throbbing in her jaw that she wanted to pretend wasn't there, and she quickly waved a hand to dismiss it. "It's okay. I-I'm fine, really."  
  
He ignored her protest, and riffled in the first aid kit Cordelia had used on Faith before returning with a cloth that he ran under the water. Buffy sighed in irritation, but allowed him to examine the blackening bruise she had been dealt back there at the prison as he pulled a chair over so that their knees were almost touching.  
  
"I'm guessing this is Spike's doing?" he murmured, eyes focused on his task rather than her. There was a slight edge to his voice and she knew he had sensed more than a little of the hostility back there had not been simply something between old enemies.  
  
Buffy swallowed. "Yeah", she muttered.  
  
She cut him off before he could go further. "Look. If you're going to ask me what happened back there, I don't know what you expect me to say".  
  
A muscle in his jaw twitched. "You wanted to help him when he got a soul. I'm still not really clear on how that even occurred, but I can understand why you would".  
  
I doubt it, she thought to herself grimly.  
  
"Right", she replied, glancing away.  
  
"Buffy, where have you been all this time?" he asked softly. "The invasion started. and you just vanished. I knew you couldn't have been killed, but then what.?"  
  
Buffy shook her head, jerking abruptly away from his hand on her cheek. "I can't. I don't want to get into this right now, okay?"  
  
He was adamant. "Yeah, but people are going to want to know -"  
  
"Angel", Buffy said pleadingly. "I know that people are going to want to know. But I didn't think I would have to deal with that from you, not yet anyway".  
  
He sighed, and then nodded. "I'm sorry. I just. it's a long time to wonder about you, Buffy. To not know if you were dead, or alive, or. or worse."  
  
She knew what he meant.  
  
She bit down on her lower lip. "Angel", she started softly. "I'd understand. if you didn't want me here".  
  
Angel frowned at her. "What?" he asked in surprise. "Why do you say that?"  
  
She looked away. "I know what people think of me here", she whispered.  
  
"You couldn't have stopped the invasion", he said sharply.  
  
Buffy crinkled her brow. "How do you know that I -"  
  
"You're blaming yourself, aren't you?" he guessed. "Buffy. it would have happened one way or the other. If it wasn't in Sunnydale, it would have been somewhere else. The vampires had been planning this for a long time".  
  
"Yeah, well", she muttered bitterly. "I wasn't exactly a big help in the after-effect department".  
  
"Buffy -"  
  
"Angel, can you just. stop. Please. I can't hear all this when I know that there aren't many jumping in line to agree with you. In case you haven't noticed, everyone in the world thinks I'm dead", she said flatly. "And you know why that is?  
  
"Because I didn't come back."  
  
She shook her head. "I knew what it was like here - that my friends were most likely here - and I didn't come back. I avoided it. Spike was right with what he said. If they are dead, it's my fault that they are".  
  
"Everyone wants to run away sometimes", he said earnestly. "Everyone needs a rest. After what you've been through, don't you think you have more than an understandable reason for that?"  
  
"I'm the slayer", Buffy snapped back. "I don't get timeout. I have to be in constant help-mode, or people end up dead. I slipped up, and the world has to pay for that."  
  
She shook her head. "You, for whatever reason, don't believe that. But everyone else does". Her voice cracked. "You saw how Cordelia just acted before. She couldn't even look at me, for God's sake. And all those people you have here. You said my name, and it was like I was the grim reaper or something. As far as they're concerned, they have to live like this because of what I did".  
  
Angel sighed. "Blaming yourself doesn't make this go away, Buffy".  
  
"No. No, it doesn't. But whatever you say, it doesn't make it any less my fault, either".  
  
Angel considered her for a long moment in silence, and she knew he didn't condemn her, and that somehow made everything all the more worse.  
  
"God, I can't. I'm tired, Angel", she said wearily at last, bowing her head. "I'm just so. I'm really tired."  
  
I can't deal with this right now.  
  
"Okay", he relented after a moment. "I'll find you somewhere to sleep." He hesitated, and then gently rested a palm over hers. "You can talk to me, Buffy. You know you can. When you're ready to tell me. everything, just remember that."  
  
Buffy stifled the urge to shriek and scream at him as a wave of self-hatred surged through her. It IS my fault, she wanted to cry. Just tell me it is my fault. Hate me like I hate myself.  
  
Instead she submissively nodded her head, and glanced away from his eyes.  
  
"Sure", she murmured noncommittally. "If that's what you think".  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
The sun had barely lit over the horizon when Angel started down the still abandoned Los Angeles streets, which even now were showing early signs of life, duster fluttering behind him in the shadows of the overhead apartment buildings.  
  
It was a new day, a new light, one in which L.A. would once again deny themselves what the world had become, love and die and breathe, until the sun went down again.  
  
He had a job to do today, and it was easier done if Buffy remained oblivious to it. It hadn't been hard to avoid her by leaving before she was awake. She was clearly going to avoid him as well after their conversation last night; it irritated him that he still knew that about her.  
  
His first stop was a bar called The Southern Cross, not far from where he and his friends inhabited. He knew the bartender through several contacts, so getting information out of him wasn't going to be particularly difficult, and as the owner of a prime nightspot he was in a perfect position to do so.  
  
Eddie glanced up at the entrance in surprise. He didn't expect anyone but the usual patrons this early in the day, and they were all already there - or they hadn't left.  
  
"Angel", he said in greeting, expression slightly wary. "What can I do for you this morning?"  
  
He made to fill a tankard, but Angel held up a warding hand. "Bit too early in the morning for me, Eddie".  
  
"Right".  
  
Angel glanced around the room, and was satisfied when he realised their only eavesdroppers would be a heavily drunk Scotsman wailing for home, and a young woman who looked like a prostitute, puffing away on a cigarette in the corner and looking to have enough troubles of her own to be worried about theirs.  
  
"I need your help with something", Angel began. "A favour, you might call it".  
  
Eddie looked reluctant, but he knew he owed. "WhNEED TO BE EXPLAINED:  
  
The night of the invasion (Sunnydad this be?" he asked suspiciously.  
  
"I know you get a lot of regular clientele this time of year, who have a lot of connections", Angel started.  
  
Eddie snorted. "To the vamps, you mean?"  
  
"It depends, really. See I'm looking for some old friends. And those contacts might just come in handy."  
  
"I ask around, they find your people", Eddie cut in. "Yeah, I get it, man. Do I get a name?"  
  
Angel withdrew a small slip of paper. "Dawn Summers, Willow Rosenburg and Alexander Harris", he said, knowing they would mean nothing to Eddie himself.  
  
He had decided earlier leaving Buffy out of this was a better option for now. Despite what he told her, he knew she was right when saying some people wouldn't react to her name too well. But Eddie was sharper than he looked.  
  
"Summers?" he mused. A frown marred his already weary lined face. "Ain't that the name of that slayer chick went missing a few years ago?"  
  
Angel's association with her wasn't exactly a secret.  
  
"That's right", Angel said, carefully neutral.  
  
"Radford Street, honey".  
  
The voice of the woman in the corner startled both men, and they turned to her in surprise. Now he had a better look at her, she was actually a lot older than Angel had initially thought. Lines circled her startlingly golden eyes, as well as black bags that her heavy make-up hadn't entirely concealed. She had to be at least thirty.  
  
"Excuse me, what did you just say?" Angel asked slowly.  
  
Eddie waved a dismissive hand. "Don't mind Lizzie. She likes any excuse to get a stranger's attention".  
  
Lizzie shot him a withering glare. "I'm not workin right now, Ed", she responded somewhat defensively. She turned her cat-like gaze onto Angel again. "The first one you read out? You said Dawn Summers, right, sugar?"  
  
Angel couldn't believe his good luck. This woman knew Dawn!  
  
"That's right", he said cautiously, just containing his enthusiasm. "You know her?"  
  
She nodded, reddish hair falling over her shoulders. The eyes and the hair were a strange combination, and Angel had to assume either one, or both, wasn't real. "I know her", she replied evenly. "That club on Radford Street, The Boiler. You know it?"  
  
Angel shook his head. She laughed derisively, and it was cut off by a harsh cough rattling her body. "Course you wouldn't know it", she corrected herself after a moment with scorn. "Well, as far as I know the girl's still there. Haven't been back in awhile."  
  
Angel held forward the piece of paper. "What about these other two? Have you heard of them?"  
  
But Lizzie was already shaking her head. "Sorry, honey. Can't say I have. But Dawn? You said her name's the same as that wacko slayer chick. They sisters or something? I wouldn't let that get around. Bad for business, you know?"  
  
Angel had no idea what she was talking about, but made himself nod in what he hoped was understanding. "Don't worry. It won't".  
  
He hesitated. "Thanks for the help".  
  
She shrugged; already distracted by her drink again, and no doubt her own sordid sorrows. "No probs, love".  
  
Radford Street. The Boiler.  
  
It was more than a good start.  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
The Boiler.  
  
It was worse than Prophecy in terms of clientele, and Angel thought that maybe Lizzie had made a mistake. Obviously from what she had indicated, Dawn was supposed to work here.  
  
It wasn't actually very far from Prophecy, but they may as well have been worlds apart. As Angel stood watching from the shadows, a young woman led a bumbling and quite clearly drunk man into the front door, and it closed with a thud behind them. The place was not a very respectable establishment, far from it, Angel thought. The outside was rundown and neglected, and the sounds of music and jeering laughter floated through the doors when the woman and her companion had crossed the threshold.  
  
Angel sighed deeply, and forced himself to enter.  
  
He wasn't naïve, he knew what the place was even before he walked in, but to see it was still a shock. A long stage occupied the majority of the space, and a bar directly opposite, as well as several tables cluttered chaotically in between. Crude music he didn't recognise boomed from the speakers, and how they were even getting electricity, Angel didn't know, but he didn't think the vampires did either.  
  
A woman clad in fishnet stockings and a short leather black dress moved slowly around on the stage, much to the enjoyment of a group of lazing men at the table nearby. They were the only customers this time of day, and apart from them, the room was virtually empty.  
  
Angel struggled to ignore the atmosphere, focusing his attention into sweeping his searching gaze around the room instead. There was a back door he assumed led to private quarters, and he started slowly towards it.  
  
"Hey honey, where are you running off to", a sultry feminine voice said behind him, tapping him on the shoulder.  
  
I don't have time for this.  
  
He wheeled slowly around to face her, about to brush her off, when he stopped dead and his face actually paled.  
  
Dawn Summers at twenty-one stood across from him, and certainly not in the capacity he had hoped.  
  
A stripper.  
  
Her pale heart shaped face was covered in foundation, and heavy black eyeliner marred her intense dark eyes. She wore a short black skirt and black strapless halter-top to complete the ensemble. For a moment he thought he had mistaken this blatantly beautiful young woman as the little girl he remembered so vividly, but recognition clouded over her expression, and he knew it was her.  
  
"Angel", she said flatly.  
  
"Dawn".  
  
Her jaw muscles clenched. "What the hell do you want here?"  
  
He glared back, unable to keep the hostility from his tone. "I'm not here to partake in your little 'business', if that's what you mean."  
  
She chuckled humourlessly. "What, so you found me and decided to try out your noble deeds on another of the helpless of this city? Great job you've been doing on that, by the way".  
  
Angel couldn't help but flinch at the barb. God. THIS was Dawn Summers, Buffy's little sister? He hadn't believed how damaging the invasion could truly be until this moment.  
  
"I'm not here to try and convince you to get out, and to be honest I don't really want to know why the hell you're here in the first place", he said coldly.  
  
She had stridden over to the low-slung counter, and leant over to riffle around in the cupboard underneath. A moment later she produced a packet of cigarettes, and he was involuntarily reminded of Lizzie back at The Southern Cross.  
  
Is that how Dawn's going to end up?  
  
She popped one between her lips, and eyed him impatiently as she lit it. "So what, then? I really should be getting back to work you know. I don't think my boss would appreciate me talking to someone who has no desire to fill his pay roll."  
  
Angel scowled. "We couldn't have that", he said sarcastically.  
  
He crossed his arms assertively over his chest. "All right. I'm here because of Buffy."  
  
Her nose immediately turned up in distaste. "What, are you doing her one last dying wish or something, Angel? I knew you'd never be able to let her go".  
  
"She's alive, Dawn".  
  
To her credit, the shock only filtered over her face for a second, before she quickly covered it over with a look of intense anger. "She's back?"  
  
"Yes".  
  
She pointed a black painted fingernail abruptly for the door. "Get out".  
  
Angel's mouth opened in amazement. "What? Dawn, she's your sister-"  
  
"She's NOTHING to me", Dawn snapped. "This just proves how selfish she is once and for all, doesn't it?"  
  
"How do you know anything about it?" Angel demanded.  
  
Dawn glared through slitted eyelids. "And you DO?" she retorted heatedly. "Just because you guys dated for a few years doesn't mean you know her. There is a LOT you will never know about her, not if she has her way. Like why hasn't she been back until now, huh Angel? Where the hell has she been for the last SIX years of MY life? People are dead because of her. Look where I am." she cut herself off.  
  
"I NEVER want to see her again, okay. EVER! You can tell her that from me, Angel. You can tell her that I have no fucking sister."  
  
The climax of her speech had Angel in momentary shock. He knew how Buffy's absence had affected him, but he should have known those nearest to her might see it differently. As far as Dawn was concerned, Buffy had literally abandoned her, and he hated to admit that she was at least partially right, if what Buffy had admitted to him last night was truth.  
  
He closed his eyes. "Can you at least tell me. what happened to the others?" he asked diffidently.  
  
Dawn sighed, but he could see she was going to tell him. For who's sake, he had no clue, because her sentiments on Buffy had just been made perfectly clear, and he knew she wasn't very fond of him, either.  
  
"Willow and Xander live in a place over by the Sector 7/8 borderline", she muttered. "It's a wiccan commune, so good luck trying to get access into there. You know as well as I do how hyper the vampires are on witches."  
  
He did know. They liked to keep witches contained from everyone else, or risk having their control threatened. Getting passage into the area of town was going to be trouble.  
  
"Thanks, Dawn", he said softly, and truly meant it.  
  
She looked away from him. "I didn't do this for you", she muttered. "Or her. And don't blame me if they hate her any more than I do".  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
Buffy was talking with Faith when he returned, and he had to smile when he saw them interacting. Faith was looking a lot better; he supposed her slayer powers had to have something to do with that.  
  
"Hey guys", he said.  
  
Buffy glanced up, and she looked caught at the sight of him, like a rabbit trapped in headlights. It annoyed him slightly, considering all the trouble he had gone to for her this morning, but he forced himself to think of it in her perspective. Considering Dawn's reaction, it wasn't a surprise she expected him to give the same reception.  
  
"Hey Ma, look what I can do", Faith teased, hopping to her feet and striking a pose.  
  
He grinned. "I'm glad you're feeling better".  
  
"You and me both, man", Faith exclaimed. She pounded her fist lightly against her palm. "Consider that Spike bastard dead in round two".  
  
Buffy remained silent, looking slightly uncomfortable at the blonde vampire's mention.  
  
Angel sighed. "Buffy, can I talk to you for a second?"  
  
Faith took the hint, and started to hobble for the door. She waved off Angel's concern as he reached out to help. "It's all good, Angel cakes", she reassured him. "I just need an excuse to stretch my legs before Nurse Cordy gets back and orders me back into bed".  
  
The brunette disappeared around the corner down the hall, and Angel turned to face Buffy, who was eyeing him warily.  
  
"What is it?" she asked sharply.  
  
"Buffy", he started carefully. "I did some. talking around today, and I think. I might have found something that interests you."  
  
Buffy frowned at him. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"I found Willow and Xander".  
  
Her mouth fell open, and she leapt to her feet.  
  
"You. you what? How did you.?"  
  
She breathed in slowly to calm herself. "Where are they?"  
  
Her expression was one of anxiety, and he was glad he hadn't told her about Dawn. He didn't know if he would. If Willow and Xander were anything like that, then he didn't think there was going to be much point to it.  
  
He knew Buffy's friends had always been the biggest source of support for her. She hadn't remained the slayer for so long without them. If they rejected her as Dawn had, he didn't know how she would cope. At least this way she had no idea.  
  
"A wiccan commune", he responded. "I found it through a. source. They live there together, apparently, so I guess that means they're okay".  
  
Her gaze was distant, and she spoke more to herself than to him. "I wonder if they know where Dawn is".  
  
He winced. No doubt she would ask them, and there was no way to stop Buffy from going to see her, once she had her mind set to it. He also knew he really had no right to withhold the information from her. She was a big girl, as she would no doubt tell him indignantly. She could take care of herself.  
  
So why are you? he asked himself. To protect her?  
  
There really was no easy answer to that.  
  
"We can go tonight", he went on. He watched her face. "I mean, if you want to?"  
  
She nodded slowly. "Tonight", she repeated. "Yeah, yeah that might be a good idea".  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
This area of town was particularly dingy and unkempt, and when Buffy and Angel located the correct address, Buffy was hesitant as she forced herself to move up the walkway.  
  
It was a one story apartment complex, what had once been a motel, considering the neon signs were still displayed, smashed and strewn across the front lawn. It was a mystery to her how Angel had found it, but he had been tight-lipped, and she had to assume it was just a contact of his that preferred to stay anonymous for their own safety.  
  
She got that all too well.  
  
Angel had managed to get them passes, and it was obvious just how much influence he had in the under rungs of society. Namely humans.  
  
Buffy felt surprisingly comfortable under the shadow of night, though they had to watch what kind of people they came across. They had already passed at least two patrol groups, and the more they neared the sector line, the harder they were to avoid.  
  
She studied Angel in the dim moonlight as they neared their destination, to quell the nervousness in her stomach if anything.  
  
The war had done nothing to disagree with him. If anything, he had grown only more attractive, and also, strangely, like he had aged, but she knew that was impossible. Either way, the difference suited him.  
  
The outlines of his face were more defined, probably, she mused, because he had lost weight. It couldn't be easy gaining access to blood anymore - let alone food - even in a world ruled by vampires themselves.  
  
His eyes though, they were haunted, even more so that they had been when plagued by the wrongs of his past. She knew the feeling.  
  
She had to wonder why he had bothered to find her best friends for her, considering the deep amount of digging he likely would have done. The answer seemed obvious, yet she couldn't quite allow herself to believe it.  
  
Angel still cared.  
  
Whether he cared for her as a friend, or. whatever they had once been to each other, she didn't think she would ever know, and maybe it was best.  
  
Because that could never happen.  
  
Now as they followed the landlord's - a stout old man with a leering gaze that made Buffy shiver - instructions, they came across the door of number six and stopped.  
  
Buffy hesitated, and glanced back at Angel uncertainly. He nodded encouragement in the darkness. Buffy faced forward again, and steeling herself, squaring her shoulders in resolve, she knocked. Unknowing to what they would find.  
  
They had to wait, but not for long, and the sounds of the bolt drawing away met their ears - a familiar sound these days.  
  
A harried looking redheaded young woman's head emerged, her gaze not focused on them but something behind her in the hall, and her voice was filled with annoyance. "Dammit, I already told you Pete, we can't get the money 'til Thursday."  
  
She trailed off as her eyes finally travelled upwards, and Buffy's heart jolted as she was met with her best friend's stare. Six long years she had waited for this moment.  
  
All she could do was smile feebly.  
  
"Hey Will".  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
TBC 


	4. Divine Acts

~*~*~*~*  
  
Strong is fighting! It's hard, and it's painful, and it's every day. It's what we have to do. -'Amends'  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
BROKEN WORLD SERIES -  
  
Part Four: Divine Acts  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
"Hey Will".  
  
Willow Roseburg stopped, and her jaw dropped in stunned shock. Buffy didn't know anything to say, so she just stood back in silence.  
  
Her friend was beautiful at twenty-seven, a slender woman with graceful curves that made it clear she was eating well here in this Wicca district, unlike a lot of them, and rich red hair that fell in waves over her shoulders.  
  
Buffy's relief was overwhelming.  
  
"Mommy?" the little girl's voice startled the two women out of their staring contest, and Willow turned back, keeping Buffy in her sights in the corner of her eye.  
  
"Mommy, is it the mean man again?" the small voice asked timidly.  
  
Willow swallowed, glancing at Buffy again, whose hand had flown to her mouth at the sight of the gorgeous little girl behind her. She had long curly hair the exact fiery shade of Willow's that fell to her waist in a neat braid, and her green eyes glanced up between them uncertainly. She had to be no more than three, and a carbon copy of Willow herself.  
  
"It's not the mean man, Danielle, sweetie", Willow quickly reassured her. "It's. it's a-a friend". Her voice was a croak.  
  
Tears sprung to Buffy's eyes at the title and the fact that she had a blossoming daughter she'd had no idea even existed.  
  
"Oh, God Will", she cried.  
  
"Buffy!"  
  
Willow came forward suddenly she surprised Buffy and Angel both, and then she was clinging to Buffy with superb strength, tears streaming down her face and burying her head against her friend's shoulder as uncontrollable sobs wracked her body.  
  
A lump formed in Buffy's throat, and she allowed herself to sag against the other woman in relief, then remorse as tears clouded her vision.  
  
She's alive, she thought joyfully. Willow's really alive.  
  
"Will?"  
  
The familiar male voice jolted Buffy out of her brief sanctuary in Willow's arms, and she pulled back as he came into view, petting Danielle lightly on the head, but his handsome and now clearly much older features twisted into a look of concern.  
  
"Will, what's the trauma?"  
  
He stopped dead in his tracks when his dark coal black eyes met with Buffy's.  
  
"Oh God".  
  
"Xander", Buffy forced out in a chocked whisper, and tears pooled over in her eyes again. "Xander, it's me."  
  
"Buffy?" he murmured, lower lip trembling.  
  
She saw his love for her then, not the love of a boyfriend, but a brother. The special love he had for her than she could never replace.  
  
A tear coursed down his cheek, where a fresh line of stubble made them rough and shadowed. "Oh God", he repeated.  
  
Willow moved out of the way just as he moved forward, encircling her in his arms in a crushing embrace. She could feel him shudder and his palm moved of its own accord as it unconsciously sought out the back of her head, cradling it towards him as he closed his eyes, as if to be sure she was really there.  
  
When he opened them again he saw Angel standing awkwardly behind her, and he slowly drew away, meeting his gaze evenly, and instantly regaining his composure.  
  
There was still that same level of animosity between them, Buffy felt it, and she tensed, unsure what to expect.  
  
But after a moment, Xander just nodded at him, and glanced down at Buffy once more.  
  
"You guys should come inside."  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
The kitchen wasn't particularly roomy, but Buffy could see that Willow had taken care to keep it neat and tidy, everything was stacked neatly and the floor and shelves were spotless.  
  
Now that their poignant reunion was past, an awkward silence had filled the room. Buffy and Angel sat on one side of the table in the hard backed wooden chairs, and Willow on the other, with Danielle nursed lightly on her knee. The child stared at the newcomers with a intelligence way past her years, and Buffy got the feeling she would be just as smart as her mother one day.  
  
Xander stood apart from the rest, back rested against the cabinet behind Willow's chair, arms crossed casually over his chest, but it was clear his stance to her was protective, and it relieved Buffy to know that he looked after her.  
  
His attitude had changed now that the full meaning of her being here - alive - had hit him, and he observed both of them with vigilance she understood.  
  
"How long have you guys been here?" Buffy asked softly, to break the silence if nothing else. The discomfiture between them chilled her, when once everything had been so open and relaxed.  
  
Willow was concentrating on the wood grain of the table like it was the more fascinating thing in the world. "Um, nearly four years now, I think".  
  
She glanced up at Xander for confirmation, and he nodded. "We came here after Sunnydale was taken over, and after moving around for a while we found this place."  
  
"The people are nice", Willow added quietly. "They're all witches, or most of them are anyway. So we can be pretty open about anything, and they understand."  
  
Buffy licked her lips, and glanced at Xander. "Danielle? Is she.?"  
  
"Not mine", he muttered, and she sensed something off there.  
  
After a moment's pause, he met her gaze. "Willow was. raped a few years ago".  
  
There was no mistaking the look behind his eyes, the accusation, though he had the good grace not to say it.  
  
Something within Buffy died.  
  
Willow was raped?  
  
And you weren't here to protect her, some inner voice accused. Tears formed behind her eyes again, but she quickly blinked them away.  
  
"It doesn't matter, Buffy", Willow whispered softly. There was a weakness about her Buffy hadn't understood, but she did now, and she knew why the Wicca noticeably relied on Xander so much.  
  
Willow smiled faintly, and then unconsciously tucked a strand of Danielle's soft hair behind one ear. "It gave me Danielle, and that's enough."  
  
Buffy nodded in understanding. God, she missed Dawn so much.  
  
"What about you guys?" Xander asked, and there was a minor edge in his tone. "Are you. back together?"  
  
Buffy's eyes widened, and she exchanged a glance with Angel.  
  
"Oh, no. We're not. I only got back to town a few days ago", she explained hastily, bothered by the comment. "I found Angel. through Amy, actually. Remember Amy?"  
  
Willow nodded mutely.  
  
Buffy looked down. "She wasn't uh. too well. The magick. well, you know where she was headed the last time we saw her".  
  
"So you haven't seen anyone else?" Xander asked warily. "From Sunnydale?"  
  
"Faith, Cordelia and Wesley are with Angel", Buffy offered.  
  
"Faith?" Willow asked sharply.  
  
"She's good now", Angel murmured, the first he had spoken on arrival.  
  
"Right, cuz we believed that the last time that happened", Xander said sourly.  
  
Angel looked annoyed, and Buffy cut in before Xander could say any more.  
  
"I also saw. Spike", she went on haltingly.  
  
Xander stopped, and Willow looked up in surprise.  
  
"You. did?" the redhead said in incredulity.  
  
Buffy bit her lip, uncomfortable under their sudden scrutiny. She was starting to wish she hadn't spoken up at all.  
  
"He got you guys out of town, didn't he?" she asked. She wanted to know if Spike had told her the truth.  
  
Willow nodded. "Yeah. Us, and Dawn. Anya disappeared on her own, so we don't know if she's." Her green eyes ticked to Xander, and she trailed off. "He stayed with us until we got to L.A." The redhead explained. "Then he. well, we don't really know what happened to him. We never expected him to stay with us, and we figured he just. moved on." She looked over at Angel uncertainly. "He um. he said he was going back to Sunnydale. to look for you. But I guess he never found you."  
  
Angel frowned, but didn't say anything.  
  
"He's uh." Buffy crinkled her brow, and hesitated. "He's evil again now."  
  
She pointed to the faded bruise on her jaw for emphasis.  
  
Willow looked slightly deflated at this, proving to Buffy she had been rather fond of the guy, but Xander just snorted with derision.  
  
"Colour me stunned", he snapped. "This actually comes as a surprise to you girls?"  
  
Willow looked caught. "Well, he was a-a big help to us. and he did have a soul", she stammered nervously. "He never. tried to go against us".  
  
"Yeah, not when Buffy was in town. He probably wanted to make sure she never kicked his blonde bomb outta there, and made himself nice and comfy over the Hellmouth gaining our trust instead. Only a matter of time before he would have stabbed us in the back".  
  
"It doesn't take a soul to make a good person", Angel murmured softly.  
  
Buffy looked at him in surprise. "What?"  
  
Xander pointed at him. "See? Least someone around here who ISN'T me has some sense, know what I mean? And Dead Boy should know what he's talkin' about, now shouldn't he?"  
  
Something crossed Angel's face at the words 'Dead Boy', but Buffy assumed it was just because they miffed him.  
  
"He didn't have to help us", Buffy muttered.  
  
"It's Buffy's supposed death that did it", Willow added thoughtfully. "I mean we all know that's the real reason. Without you around for six years, I guess he finally convinced himself that that was just. over. There was no reason to stay good, was there? I mean, without Dru he had no reason to stay evil, so maybe it's just like that, you know?"  
  
Angel narrowed his eyes. "Wait a minute", he spoke up slowly. "You're saying that Spike was in love with Buffy?"  
  
"Aren't we quick on the uptake?" Xander retorted.  
  
Willow's eyes bulged. "I. um. well. oh, crap".  
  
"Yes, Spike was in love with me", Buffy said tetchily. "But the key word being 'was' as in past tense. He's evil now, isn't he? I think this bruise more than proves he was ready to kill me once and for all".  
  
"Let's hope", Xander grumbled to himself under his breath.  
  
"Look, Spike isn't important. What about Dawn? Is she alive?"  
  
Xander and Willow exchanged a glance, then both noticed at the same time the worried expression on Angel's face that didn't spark from concern for the youngest Summers.  
  
He knew.  
  
"She's. alive", Willow admitted unwillingly. "I think that's. all that really matters though, right?"  
  
Buffy frowned. "What? What do you mean 'all that matters'? Do you know where she is? You do, don't you? Why aren't you telling me?"  
  
Xander pursed his lips. "Why don't you ask your friend Angel there", he said darkly. "Seems to me he knows something he shouldn't".  
  
Angel glared at him. "Thanks a lot, Xander."  
  
Buffy turned on him, and she knew he was hiding something from her immediately. He knows where Dawn is?  
  
"You knew where Dawn was and you didn't TELL me?" she fumed. She felt slightly betrayed.  
  
" - Buffy, I know why Angel didn't tell you, and I wouldn't have either", Willow cut in brusquely; voice more with its familiar authority. She shot Xander a murderous glare. "Buffy, Dawn. you know what she's like. You can't tell her what to do, and now she's an adult. even more so."  
  
"So where is she?" Buffy demanded, dangerously close to snapping.  
  
Willow remained strangely calm in the face of her wrath, despite the fact that Danielle shifted nervously on her knees at the sudden raised voices.  
  
"Dawn's a stripper, Buffy", Willow said flatly.  
  
Buffy snorted, about to burst into laughter, when she caught the grim expression held by all three of her friends, and stopped.  
  
"Oh God, you're serious, aren't you?" she said dully.  
  
Xander sighed over Willow's head. "I wouldn't. go looking for her, either, Buff", he continued uneasily. "She. she might need time to adjust to your being. back."  
  
There was something in his tone that said, 'If she ever does at all'.  
  
Buffy looked away. Someone ought to blame her, she knew, but it was her own sister? It was a hard reality to grasp. And it didn't sound like she was very willing to put the past behind them.  
  
But I asked for it, didn't I, she thought contemptuously. I asked for all of this when I deserted them. It's my fault Willow was raped, and Spike killed all of those people, and my little sister does things that I wish she didn't even know about.  
  
It had never occurred to her that she had not only failed her duty, but her friends as well.  
  
So why didn't I come back?  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
Angel and Buffy had disappeared off to somewhere earlier that night, and Wesley dimly wondered where it was.  
  
Not that he cared where they had gone.  
  
Nobody talked to him so he could know these things, but he didn't feel particularly inclined to talk to them either.  
  
He could feel Gunn's hatred, yet the man respected Angel too much to act on his instinct. He could see Cordelia's disappointment, yet the hurt pride that didn't allow her to admit it to him. None of them mattered anymore.  
  
They were shadows from his past; phantom reminders of a life lived in denial of his true nature.  
  
Though the others were all wary of him, none of them actually concerned him but Faith. Despite her earlier years in that capacity, she was actually quite perceptive, and a threat to him for sure.  
  
His mind was clouded over with these thoughts when he entered the apartment complex from the back, and came face to face with the object of his contemplation, walking in the other direction.  
  
She stopped before nearly walking into him, and he forced his expression to read perfectly blank. "Faith".  
  
"Wesley".  
  
He glanced her over. She seemed remarkably fine, if her walking around was anything to go by. He had always been quite amazed by the slayer's ability to heal as fast as any vampire, and it never really stopped fascinating him.  
  
"You seem better", he observed.  
  
Faith nodded. "Five by five", she said crisply. Her dark eyes were narrowed in suspicion. "Where you been?"  
  
He tilted an eyebrow at her. "I thought I might take advantage of the fact that I was actually free to do as I please for a change, and go for a walk".  
  
"In the middle of the night?" she countered. Oh, she was quick.  
  
Wesley just shrugged in response. "The vampires don't bother me out here".  
  
Faith frowned. "No. Guess they wouldn't."  
  
She started off again, clearly anxious to get out of his company, he noted with vague amusement. How she had changed. She paused mid-step, and turned slowly to regard him again.  
  
"You know that you hurt a lot of people, Wesley", she said seriously.  
  
He remained impassively silent.  
  
"Angel was willing to give you a shot here, but we both know he isn't stupid."  
  
No, Wesley thought. Just distracted by certain other things.  
  
"If you do anything to undermine that, there's no way anybody will stand for it. Not again. I hope you remember that, Wesley".  
  
Despite the threat he knew she could make good on, he was slightly satisfied with her unease. It meant she feared him. And that meant he was closer to what he wanted.  
  
"I should wonder if you are threatening me, Faith", Wesley said softly.  
  
This annoyed her. "I don't know what's up with you, man", she said, shaking her head. "But I'm gonna figure it out. And when I do, threats'll be the last thing you have to worry about, Wes".  
  
She didn't wait to gauge his reaction at this comment, instead swivelled purposefully for the door and let it close behind her with a resonant slam. Wesley sighed, and started up the stairs for his room.  
  
Only once the door was firmly closed behind him did he remove the rumpled brown paper package from beneath the jacket Angel had given him, and took his time unwrapping the delicate contents.  
  
The vial hadn't been particularly difficult to locate, and he lowered himself onto a crouch on the floorboards, which creaked slightly under his weight. No one would be interrupting him, and that was just as well.  
  
Wesley unscrewed the top, resistant to smelling the putrid inside and instead holding it to the floor. Shifting in careful movements, he began to pour the think, unsavoury liquid across the floorboards. Only when he was finished he allowed himself to gaze the shape over with a sense of satisfaction, and placed the now empty bottle negligently aside now that it had served its purpose.  
  
He settled himself in a cross-legged position in the very centre of the pentagram and closed his eyes.  
  
If Faith were to realise what he had on him, she would have thrown him out on the street without hesitation. Fortunate for him, she was not a witch, and as long as one did not come onto the property, he had little hope of being discovered.  
  
The fresh human blood was rich and nauseating at the same time, yet tinged with a different smell, one that made it impervious to vampire detection. The innocent young woman whose body had been left by the docks would no doubt gain little comfort knowing that.  
  
Because her blood was the first in many that would go a long way for him to achieve his goal. Nothing would stand in his way, certainly not the taking of life.  
  
He had had enough time in his cell to plan it, his victory, his ultimate success.  
  
His life was about to change.  
  
Not as Angel Investigation's loyal companion, whose valiant but naive efforts to serve the helpless of Los Angeles had eventually come to its conclusion as a worthless failure. And certainly not as The Watcher, the pathetic disappointment of a man his father had loathed to call son.  
  
Someone new.  
  
Someone even that old man could fear.  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
Angel lay awake in the darkness of his room, deeply troubled by their brief but telling visit to Willow and Xander's.  
  
Dawn's words floated back to him.  
  
'There's a lot you will never know about her.'  
  
He sighed deeply, realising that she was all too right. He didn't know Buffy, not anymore, not how it counted. He hadn't even known her before she came back, before the invasion began. Their separation had done the one thing he had truly feared; it had made them strangers to one another.  
  
Angel knew he was naïve in thinking that despite leaving for her own good, they would always carry that link that had constantly been strong between them. In reality it had been severed long ago.  
  
Buffy had secrets. He had his share of secrets from her, and he honestly didn't know which one of them would be more shocked with the separate truths.  
  
He had never expected Buffy to not move on without him, Riley had been a testament to that, and though he had resented the soldier boy, he knew the guy was exactly what she needed. But she obviously hadn't. For whatever reason, Buffy needed more, and because of that Riley had developed an inferiority complex and walked out.  
  
Whether he was ready to believe it or not, there had been something between Buffy and Spike too, and it hadn't just been one way.  
  
Angel's thoughts were distracted when he heard the distant click to the door of his room, and momentarily thought that maybe it was an intruder. Then he realised how ridiculous that was - considering the barrier that protected the entire building - and cautiously raised his head to peer among the shadows.  
  
The darkness shifted over near the window to his bedroom and his brows drew together in a frown.  
  
Something fluttered within his insides.  
  
And then he knew.  
  
"Buffy?" he guessed softly.  
  
She stepped into a sliver of moonlight that filtered from the window. Her hair loose and flowing freely around her face, and her eyes were sad and haunted.  
  
His face softened. "Buffy? What is it? What's wrong?"  
  
"You said. I can talk to you. Do you remember?"  
  
He nodded slowly. His gaze was riveted to hers, trying to figure out why she was here. For comfort? She had stopped seeking that from him a long time ago.  
  
She licked her lips, and then closed her eyes. "I didn't come back because I didn't want to", she said in a small voice.  
  
Angel frowned in surprise at the unexpected confession, and forgot the whirlwind of confusing thoughts rushing through his mind. "What?"  
  
"I was sick of everything", she whispered. "My life was actually starting to turn around again after. everything, and then that vampire just. came out of nowhere, and he ruined everything. So I stayed away. I hid myself in the world, and because of everything it was just so incredibly easy."  
  
She looked down. "When I found out you were alive. I didn't want to come here. I didn't want you to see. what I am."  
  
"Buffy", Angel said gently, sitting up on the bed. He was relieved it had been a reasonably chilly night, even for California, and he was fully clothed rather than how he would usually sleep.  
  
"I see the person you always were. I see Buffy Summers. What else should I see?"  
  
A tear slipped down her cheek, and she blinked furiously to make it go away. "What everyone else does", she murmured mournfully. "My own sister hates me, doesn't she? You saw her, tell me the truth."  
  
When Angel couldn't reply, she nodded knowingly. "See? I left her. I left them all, and look what happened to them".  
  
"You don't control their lives, Buffy", Angel said sharply.  
  
"No, but they rely on me. They trust me to protect them, and they should, especially now. I abandoned everything".  
  
Before he knew what he was doing, he outstretched his hand and his palm came to rest on the side of her waist, and he pulled her so she was standing right at the edge of the bed beside him.  
  
"Listen to me", he said seriously. "You have had to deal with a lot of pain in your life. There is no reason why you should have to shoulder all of this, slayer or not. Understand? Your friends know that, inside. Dawn loves you. She will always love you. And she'll come to realise that."  
  
Buffy sniffed. "What if she doesn't?" she whimpered.  
  
A part of him was protesting even as he silenced her with a finger to her lips, and gently swept aside the coverlet and offered her his bed. Her exhaustion spoke to him like nothing else could, and he knew that he loved this girl more than the sun, and her pain was his.  
  
Their painful history evaporated as the blonde slayer settled weakly beside him, and he covered her with the over-blanket as she turned on her side so that her back melded into his body.  
  
It felt perfectly natural as he wound his arms protectively around her slim waist.  
  
She shivered at his body so close, and he closed his eyes, unconsciously inhaling her sweet, familiar vanilla scent. Her entire presence filled him with warmth, and his fingers tenderly brushed aside a slip of hair that strayed in front of her face.  
  
Why? he thought Why does this woman have to suffer so much pain, when she's suffered too much already?  
  
He cursed her friends for making her this way; despite the fact that he knew they truly did love her. But they were selfish, as was human nature, and he was selfish too for wanting to make Buffy forget her pain, so that his own could be silenced.  
  
"I don't want to loose them, Angel", she said softly. "If I did. I don't want them to leave me. I just wish. they would stop. Leaving me".  
  
Angel inwardly winced at this inadvertent reference to their break-up.  
  
Buffy seemed to realise this at the same time and she swivelled around to look at him. "I didn't mean."  
  
He smiled absently, and cupped her cheek gently between his thumb and forefinger. "I know."  
  
He sighed. "Buffy, things are going to be hard. But you'll pull through. You always do. It's something I've always admired about you. Things after." he paused, not wanting to remind her of this particular loss. But it needed to be said, if only to provide her with piece of mind.  
  
"After you mother, you thought things would never be right. But they got better, day after day, didn't they?"  
  
Buffy looked down. "Angel. I know you're trying to help, but. but they really didn't".  
  
He frowned at this. "What? What do you mean?"  
  
She shifted. "I guess they did. eventually. But I went through a long hard time after it happened, and I died. Things. happened that I never ever want to repeat."  
  
He was eyeing her if a bit too closely now and she sensed it coming before he uttered the words.  
  
"You mean you and Spike?"  
  
Buffy's eyes flickered up in surprise. "What.?"  
  
He shook his head unhappily. "That's pretty much enough to tell me that I'm right. I'm not stupid, Buffy. I could tell something was off there, and it wasn't just that he was in love with you. But I can't be sure exactly what happened, and I think we can both safely agree that I don't want to hear about it".  
  
"No." Buffy moved away. "Angel, maybe I should just go."  
  
By accident, this action told him even more than he ever wanted to know about her liaisons with the evil vampire, and he took a moment to react before his hand shot out and pulled her back.  
  
"No, stay. Please. I'll feel better if I know you're all right, here with me. Okay?" he forced his voice to come out gentle and reassuring.  
  
She looked at him searchingly. "I don't have to -"  
  
" - Stay", he repeated, a little more firmly.  
  
"Okay", she croaked.  
  
He sighed as she turned around again to face the other way, and after awhile she closed her eyes.  
  
Buffy and Spike.  
  
It didn't actually come as much of a surprise, much to his chagrin. There had always been a sort of. chemistry between them, even when he was evil and trying to kill her and all of her friends.  
  
Ironically Buffy's most natural match was the vampires she tried to kill, which explained the heat between them when they fought. There was passion there that wasn't easily ignored, and though he tried to quench the thought, as he listened to the sounds of her silent breaths of sleep, he wondered whether that was all it had been between them.  
  
Riley had left because he couldn't amount to her power.  
  
Buffy was too independent and emotionally as well as physically strong for him and he couldn't handle it.  
  
Would things become that way for us?  
  
No.  
  
He knew it, and he knew he was being stupid. He had never been afraid of her, and he had known since the beginning she was the stronger one. He accepted it. He loved Buffy for who she was, not for what she was.  
  
Things between them were in no way near a comparison to her brief fling with the Soldier Boy, or whatever these had been between her and Spike.  
  
Buffy shifted further against him in a half-sleep like state, and he smiled, realising that she was perfectly relaxed while he was having such serous thoughts.  
  
Then she tensed, and he cursed himself for forgetting, something she would immediately interpret as mistrust.  
  
"Buffy -"  
  
He knew the exact moment she had felt it. The strong, steady beating of his two hundred and fifty year old heart, as if revitalized and fresh.  
  
Which, it was.  
  
She drew away from him in disbelief.  
  
Angel was alive?!  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
TBC 


	5. Falling

A.N. I've had quite a mixture of complaints and praise about Wesley's 'dark side' in this fic. It may seem a bit slow, but I can only promise that the reasons for his behaviour will come out soon. and he will have a battle with conscience.  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
I found out that there are other types of people. They make mistakes. And they fall down. But they keep caring. Keep trying.  
  
-'Consequences'.  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
BROKEN WORLD SERIES -  
  
Part Five: Falling  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
Dawn glanced uneasily over her shoulder as her footsteps echoed dully around her ears in the desolate darkened street.  
  
She wasn't unaccustomed to walking the streets of Los Angeles alone at night - even as it was now - far from it. She wasn't a hooker, but occasionally the club made special 'house calls', as her friend Ivy liked to call them; depending on how beneficial the client could be to their establishment. Human underground ringleaders mostly; whoever her boss Harvey wanted to strike up a deal with, and he usually used his girls as they made the process 'as painless as possible'.  
  
Dawn was a particular favourite of late. She was still youthful and fresh, and her beauty hadn't yet faded, unlike so many of the other girls who hid the reality behind layers of cheap make-up and lipstick.  
  
This particular client had been a grabby gambling sleazoid - someone the old Dawn would never have thought about associating with. But this new Dawn was cynical and world-weary, and it wasn't like she could make her living off bachelor parties or fraternity bashes anymore. Those days were long gone.  
  
She would deal. As she always did.  
  
She was alone; or she may as well have been. Willow and Xander weren't much of a support network - they did what they could, but ultimately they were too absorbed in the tangles Buffy had left of their own lives to worry about hers. And she knew they didn't exactly approve of her ultimate career path either.  
  
Dawn wished she could make them recognize that none of them had a future in this place. This wasn't a temporary gig; this was forever.  
  
They were here, forever.  
  
Buffy was back, and they would no doubt expect her to fix everything and the world would go back to normal. And they thought she was the kid.  
  
Buffy's presence changed nothing.  
  
Dawn wasn't a child anymore; she didn't harbour the illusion that one single person could wave their magic wand and change the course of the world from how it was. Not even if that person was Buffy. No matter what Willow and Xander might want to delude themselves with, Buffy wasn't Wonder woman.  
  
When Angel had come to tell her Buffy was alive, for one fleeting moment she had had these stupid thoughts, believed that somehow things could change. Angel was naïve too, in that aspect. And somehow he was worse, because he would hear no ill of Buffy, no matter what she had done.  
  
In his favour, Dawn was never particularly fond of him. Sure, she'd lodged a secret crush on him in the earlier years, until she'd discovered he wasn't the knight in shining armour she'd initially thought, and he'd changed into all the other jerk-wad idiots to grace her sister's love life. After awhile she'd even come to resent him. When Buffy wasn't completely wrapped up in her new friends and her new school, her mind would be Angel Angel Angel, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.  
  
It had become the same with Spike eventually, only Dawn hadn't recognised the symptoms at the time because Buffy had kept it to herself. Only she couldn't really resent Spike. because well, she'd always kind of liked him.  
  
Buffy may have been back, but Dawn couldn't say she gave a damn - or ever would. She wasn't about to go running back to her side just to have her up and leave again. It was something the slayer was much too good at.  
  
The youngest Summers now paused mid-step, sweeping her gaze suspiciously over her shoulder again. The feeling that she was being followed had not waned - it had only increased as she went along.  
  
Cutting abruptly into a nearby alley, Dawn scurried onwards at a much faster pace than before, realising she had only made finding herself an easier task as she swore aloud and tripped on her flimsy thin heels. The alleyway was littered with garbage that she could see someone had mildly attempted to clear, but the dream had died quickly, and the new garbage had just been mounded over the old garbage, creating a putrid stench relatively worse that any sewer tunnel she might have spent time in as stand-in slayerette.  
  
Her knee finally gave beneath her as the heel snapped, and Dawn was forced to a halt as she struggled to wrench her foot free of the irritating burden. Above her bent head, the shadows shifted in the corner of her eye, and a breeze pricked at the hairs on her neck.  
  
Dawn slowly lifted her head, sweeping aside her curtain of chin length black hair hindering her view. The darkness seemed to intensify as the buildings closed in on one another on either side of her.  
  
She had been trained in the basic forms of combat years ago back in Sunnydale, but it had been a long time since she'd had the need to put those skills into practice. As Dawn's dark gaze flickered nervously around, she vowed to herself if she managed to get out of this confrontation alive, she would force herself to re-learn everything she had been taught.  
  
Then something detached itself from the murky shadows ahead, and Dawn's anxiety shifted into something much worse.  
  
Cigarette clamped lightly between his teeth like so many familiar pictures from her short-lived childhood, Spike stepped out into her view, and grinned at her deprecatingly.  
  
"Hello, Niblet".  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
"Buffy - "  
  
"You're ALIVE?!"  
  
The word came out as more of an accusation than a statement, and Angel inwardly winced as Buffy jumped out of the bed and away from him to stare in disbelief. All of the emotions she was feeling coloured her face like the incidence of an angry rainbow; stunned shock, betrayal, anger. Anger most of all.  
  
"Please," Angel began in a placating tone. "Let me explain before you say anything -"  
  
"Don't you Goddamn SHRINK me, Angel!" Buffy burst out furiously. "Let's think about the fact that you LIED to me!" She laughed shortly. "Wow, and should I even be surprised at all? It's not like it would be anything new. We don't exactly have the greatest track record on HONESTY or anything."  
  
Angel's brow lowered. "Hey", he protested indignantly. "Now that's a bit of a cheap shot". He rose to stand in front of her, and his looming form towered high above her. The difference in their heights did nothing to deter her, if only infuriated her more.  
  
"Then why didn't you mention this in the first place?" she demanded hotly, pointing at him angrily. "Tell me that? Why didn't you tell me -?"  
  
" - BUFFY!" Angel snapped, cutting her off in the middle of her rant. He sighed at the hurt expression that immediately crossed her face. "I'm sorry", he said evenly, incredible weariness drowning his voice. "But can you please listen to me first before you make accusations? You haven't been back for long, Buffy", he said slowly. "How was I supposed to know that.?"  
  
Buffy frowned at this, and her arms drew to rest akimbo. "That what?"  
  
"That THIS would happen", he said, gesturing around wildly for emphasis.  
  
Buffy's face clouded over. "Nothing happened", she responded strongly. "I just needed."  
  
"What?" he shot back. "Comfort? That's exactly why I didn't want to tell you about this. You already have a lot to deal with. Wouldn't this just add more complications into the mix? If you had known that I was human when you came in here."  
  
Buffy looked indignant. "What are you saying? That I would have wanted something *more* from you?" She shook her head. "That's great, Angel. It's nice to know how you *really* see me".  
  
Angel scowled. "That isn't what I meant".  
  
"Then what? That I might fall in love with you again?" she spat. "You were right when you said I have too many things to deal with right now. Do you seriously think I would even *consider* putting myself through that again after just. everything?"  
  
Angel couldn't ignore the barb of hurt this comment inflicted, but forced his expression to read vacant. "Fine", he said flatly, lowering his voice. "Then maybe you should just leave".  
  
A spark of fear flashed behind her green eyes and she couldn't repress her surprise. "You're. what?" she managed out.  
  
He shrugged. "Yeah, maybe that would be best. I mean you obviously don't trust me enough to do things the way I see as right, do you? That maybe I had legitimate *reasons* for not telling you about something that alters a lot about the way things stand between us, whether you're willing to admit it or not."  
  
Buffy closed her eyes. "Okay", she whispered hoarsely. "I'm sorry. It's just. you surprised me. Is that want you want to hear?"  
  
The anger seemed to drain out of him. "I just want you to let me explain", he said tiredly.  
  
Buffy crossed her arms over her chest in an unconsciously self-protective manner, but she eyed him with something more than casual expectancy. "Go ahead then".  
  
Angel hesitated now he had the floor, then nodded, and drew in a steadying breath after the heated exchange that had just passed between them. He had forgotten how stubborn and blindly exasperating she could be until now, and the thought almost made him smile.  
  
Almost.  
  
"Okay. It started a long time ago", he started softly. "A prophecy. It foretold the End of Days, and how I would be a pivotal component in them. Wesley. translated it, and discovered that that role would result in actually averting the Apocalypse, and my ultimate redemption, something called Shanshu.  
  
"Humanity."  
  
He paused, wetting his lips nervously. He had Buffy's full attention, and she was watching him so intently it was beginning to unnerve him.  
  
"What Wesley. either missed, or misinterpreted was the invasion. He thought. it was possible as being referred to as plagues of humanity, and that's what caused some confusion. We thought that maybe it was the eventual beginning of the Apocalypse, and so in order to receive my Shanshu. I would have to survive through it.  
  
"Only. one day Cordelia received a vision of a powerful prophet. and this prophet restored my humanity. Obviously, if Cordy had this vision, then we knew this was the Power's intervention, and that either the prophecy was mistaken . or something had interfered with making things transpire the way they were supposed to. Wesley surmised. that maybe. maybe it was your disappearance that did this".  
  
Buffy frowned. "You mean I had a major role as well?"  
  
"Yes. As the slayer, it seemed apparent you would. But you. disappeared, and the invasion plunged the world into literal darkness. But I was still gained my humanity. If I'm still important in the grand scheme of things, it won't be in the way we originally thought".  
  
Buffy went silent as she digested this. Angel was supposed to prevent the Apocalypse and receive his reward of humanity, yet instead he was forced to live it out in the centre of vampire reign, and the terror and destruction that engulfed the world.  
  
Either something had happened that had radically changed fate for this to happen, or those Powers had one big damn sense of humour.  
  
"So. how long has it been?" she asked at last.  
  
Angel sighed. "Five years", he admitted. "Just before Wesley. went away."  
  
"I've had time to adjust", he went on quickly. "Gunn helps me to. stay in shape, so I can still fight them. I'm not as strong as I once was, but like it or not, I still have a significant function in this city, and whether that just means protecting humanity as best I can, then I intend to be ready for it."  
  
Angel slumped onto the edge of the mattress. "I was going to tell you, Buffy", he continued softly, carefully evasive as he kept his gaze focused on the carpet. "You just. showed up so unexpectedly, and I wasn't ready. Whether Cordy and Faith and the others understood that or not, they still kept their silence over it until I told you myself. Though things didn't exactly happen that way, did they?"  
  
Buffy bit her lip. "No", she murmured quietly.  
  
Despite his earlier thoughts, he suspected something in her attitude had changed upon this discovery, though he couldn't be confident that change was good or bad.  
  
Buffy was inwardly wondering why she hadn't sensed this earlier, but knew at the same time she had been too distracted with her own worries to concentrate on anything else.  
  
God, I'm starting to fall back on old habits, she cursed herself half- heartedly.  
  
"Buffy?" he prompted softly.  
  
She glanced up. "Oh, yeah. Sorry, I." She paused. "Can I just. think about this for a bit?" she said gently. "I want to. let it sink in properly, I guess.  
  
Something about this answer seemed to deflate him completely then. "Sure", he murmured.  
  
Buffy heaved a deep sigh. "Angel", she started honestly, falling down to sit on the bed beside him. She fidgeted agitatedly with her clasped hands. "I didn't mean what I said, I. You know I didn't mean it".  
  
Angel nodded, gaze still planted firmly ahead. "I know".  
  
"You were right. About things maybe getting complicated. But. but you're still my. friend, and I understand why you didn't tell me straight away. And I'm happy for you." She frowned. "Aren't you. happy?"  
  
His dark eyes travelled upwards, and she unconsciously shivered under the intensity of his gaze.  
  
"There isn't really much to be happy about these days. Is there?"  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
"Spike".  
  
Dawn didn't move as he stepped closer towards her, and she forced her eyes to hold his own. He still had that small smirk on his lips that she found relentlessly infuriating, and he took an elongated draw of his cigarette before he spoke at last.  
  
"Well. We've certainly grown up, Nibs", he noted almost casually, giving her an appraising look through the pooling lamplight.  
  
And grown up she was. He was unable to stop himself from noting how attractive the littler Summers was in her early twenties - certainly even more so than her righteous older sister. She'd finally lost the longhaired do and cut it to her chin, the colour now a deep, coal-like black that that made her wide brown eyes all the more striking. Her face, pale and smooth, was much the same, still as haughty as ever, and with that familiar Summers fire that was well known in the Slayer. It was wisped messily around her flushed cheeks a bit too much to be deliberate.  
  
There was a courage and strength in the tilt of her chin, yet Spike somehow suspected it was all for show, for within those eyes he saw a permanently scarred soul. Her lips were full and red even without the aid of her lipstick, and he noticed, admittedly with some level of unease, how sensuous it made them appear.  
  
Dawn returned his look with an impressive sneer of her own, aware herself of his appreciative assessment.  
  
"What the hell do you want?" she snapped coldly. She wasn't in the mood for another confrontation - especially in the space of two days after six years of nothing.  
  
Spike's eyebrows shot up at her tone and he flicked the cig across the alley, landing not far from her feet. "I'm sensing some real hostility vibes 'ere, luv", he said curtly.  
  
"Aren't we sharp", she said edgily.  
  
He could tell she knew just as well as he what his purpose was out here. The Patrol group's voices drifted perceivably back to them, yet for some reason she was transfixed to the spot, unable to move away.  
  
"Don't move too far from form, do we Spike?" she noted pointedly instead.  
  
Spike just smirked in response, unable to stop himself from lashing out at her even though he knew it wasn't really she he hated.  
  
"Can't say the same for you", he responded scathingly. "Little bit's a whore, eh? Just come in from a job, have you then? Vampires in your. field of expertise? Might just follow in big sis's footsteps yet, I'd wager".  
  
He pursed his lips in thought, pausing for a moment at her hate-filled expression. "Been a while for us though, hasn't it, cutie?" he said at last. "What is it, five, six years?"  
  
"Six", she affirmed tightly. She glared. "I take it you didn't find Buffy in your travels?" she sniped cuttingly. She titled her eyebrow nonchalantly. "She's back in town, you know", she went on indifferently.  
  
If she'd expected to hurt him, she was mournfully mistaken. "So I've seen", he replied evenly.  
  
She snorted. "You've seen her?" she said distastefully. "Wow, you move real fast. Should'a known you'd still have a thing for her. Even if she is screwing Angel again".  
  
He flew forward so fast she barely saw the movement, and then her arms were pinned firmly by her sides, and her back was pressed uncomfortably into the hard brick alley wall. She shifted under his solid grasp. "I thought you had a soul", she spat into his looming face.  
  
His expression was an angry mask as he leaned threateningly into her face. He had never acted like this, not to her, and she had to admit it was frightening.  
  
"Fact is I can kill you 'ere now, luv, and the soul wouldn't make it a bloody great issue."  
  
She swallowed nervously, but didn't tear away from his face.  
  
He pressed his lips into a thin tight line. "You got your issues with big sis, I get that. Hell, got enough of my own with the girl. Not the easiest to get along with, she is. But I'm not about to get all warm and fuzzy on the bitch, soul or no. Understand? Buffy's little formers come lookin' for heart to hearts with their old mate Spike, don't think I won't be opposed to rocking the boat with her. Heck, I'd kill you right bloody here and now if I thought it'd mean something, but doesn't seem like no one much would care if you washed up on some street corner six months from now, does it?"  
  
Dawn struggled with him again more forcefully, and he responded by pressing more harder against her, pinning her legs with his body so they were inches apart and his breath tickled her cheek. This just elicited a cold laugh from the blonde vampire.  
  
"She did a bloody good number on you, didn't she, precious?" he taunted ironically. "To make you hate her like this? Maybe almost as much as I do".  
  
"You don't hate her", Dawn hissed, and to her satisfaction something flickered behind his eyes at her stark perceptiveness. "You never hate her. You're just like the rest of them, except even worse. Because she'll never feel the same way, especially now. You were pathetic back then, and you're pathetic now."  
  
He really shocked her then, and did something he had never ever done.  
  
Spike hit her.  
  
It was with his open palm, but the force was still enough to drive her head backwards, and her cheek throbbed painfully after he drew his hand away again. "Still as feisty as your bloody skanky bitch of a sis", he spat, incensed that she had invoked enough anger in him to make him strike out.  
  
He shook his head, stepping back so that there was more distance between them. But Dawn still couldn't move, and her legs threatened to tremble beneath her as she sagged her back against the wall, as if shirking away from him. But despite the pain still in her jaw, she wasn't afraid of this particular vampire.  
  
"How the mighty have fallen, eh Nibs?" he said distastefully, looking her over. "Resorting to cheap insults. I'd kill you gladly, you know, you only had to ask".  
  
"Spike!" a booming voice echoed suddenly down the alley. Dawn tensed at the sound. "What have you got?"  
  
Spike's icy blue gaze fixed on Dawn's for a long, silent moment.  
  
"Nothing back 'ere, mate", he shouted back at last.  
  
"We'd better get moving soon then", the voice went on. "Still got time for one more sweep before we should be getting back".  
  
They heard the sounds of his feet sweeping the gravel as he moved off again, and Dawn's ragged breathing calmed as she stared at Spike with a deep frown.  
  
"Like I said, I'd kill you", he said flatly. He stepped back again, and made to turn away, then paused. "But truth is I always kind of liked you, kid. Just you remember I won't be so merciful on any of your other pals if they start coming my way."  
  
He stopped, furnishing her a level stare. "And you might just wish I'd killed you if I ever come across you again, Dawn".  
  
It was the first time he had used her name, and there was sincerity in his voice that chilled her to the core.  
  
"Will you kill her?" she asked after him quietly.  
  
He looked at her. Real coldness there. Dawn shivered.  
  
"I wouldn't want to test it".  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
Buffy strode slowly through the doorway to the small kitchen niche downstairs, a deep bone weary tiredness settling over her that had decided to move-in since the night before.  
  
She hadn't slept much since her startling conversation with Angel, instead laid awake most of the night hours listening to the devil and the seraph quarrelling heatedly inside her head until she wanted to knock herself out to make them still.  
  
Angel was right. The fact that he was alive did nothing to make things easier between them, when they had already been on tenterhooks as it was. Trying to accept it? Buffy wasn't even over the starting line.  
  
"Hey, B", the muffled greeting startled her out of her thoughts, and Buffy glanced up to realise Faith sat at the small circular kitchen table, bowl of something food-like cupped in one hand, spoon half way to her mouth in the other.  
  
"Oh. Hey", Buffy said slowly, moving over to join her. She wasn't particularly in the mood to deal with people this morning, but she wasn't choosy. Faith was probably a better preference that anyone else around there right now.  
  
Her gaze took in the sludgy, vaguely oatmeal looking substance in Faith's hands, and she couldn't stop her nose wrinkling up in disgust.  
  
Faith grinned at the look. "Hungry?" she chirped teasingly.  
  
Buffy shook her head. "Uh, no thanks".  
  
"I know", she said knowingly, between mouthfuls. "Unfortunately this is considered flavour country 'round here. If you're thinkin' of sticking around, you better get used to it".  
  
Faith chuckled at Buffy's stricken expression.  
  
"Relax, Buff. I'm just playing with you." She cocked her thumb in the direction of the back door, behind the stairs. "Gunn's gone off to get us some more supplies. Should be back in half a sec. This was the only thing I could dig up in the meantime, and I'm freakin' starved."  
  
Buffy smirked half-heartedly, realising she missed the brunette slayer's cheek a lot sometimes. "Good to know then".  
  
Faith paused, regarding her thoughtfully as she chewed, and Buffy settled down on the seat across from her. "So you are stickin' around a bit then?" she asked carefully.  
  
Buffy's face went instantly blank of emotion. "Maybe", she replied noncommittally, eyes downcast on the wood grain table as she traced patterns negligently with her finger.  
  
Faith decided to try another, blunter tact.  
  
"So Angel told you, huh?"  
  
Buffy's head shot up at the unexpected statement - rather than question - and she couldn't conceal her surprise. "How did you.?"  
  
Faith gestured to one ear with her spoon. "Thin walls, B. 'Specially with me being two doors down an' all".  
  
Buffy sighed, unusually deflated. "Right". She frowned. "You don't live here though, do you? Usually, I mean".  
  
Faith shrugged. "Not usually. Have my own pad bit further in town that I share with a few others. Then this thing with me being shot happened, and Wes being back, and I figured I'd stay around a while".  
  
"You don't. trust him?" Buffy observed.  
  
Faith shrugged, evasive herself now, then scowled. "Hey. You can't steer me from the topic of conversation that easy. So let me in on the deal. I couldn't really work out what was happening because there were all these wicked freaky pauses. Started to think you'd done each other in or somethin'".  
  
Buffy smiled vaguely. "Nice to hear you're concerned."  
  
Faith grinned impishly. "Well I didn't wanna go check or anything. You could'a been doing other things for all I know. Didn't wanna walk in on that, no matter how hot I can guess Angel might look in the buff".  
  
Buffy opened her mouth in surprise, but let it pass. No sense bringing THAT into her case. Might sway her in the other direction all on its own.  
  
God, you've been around Faith too long already.  
  
"So?" the younger woman prompted, putting down the utensils so she had her full attention on Buffy. "The curiosity's gonna kill me if you don't share. You gonna get back together? Cuz it'd do Angel a world of good, I can tell you that much, girlfriend".  
  
Buffy shrugged, averting her gaze again. "I don't know", she muttered, suddenly wished she hadn't ventured outside her room at all. "The timing's always been off for us. And there's just so much."  
  
Faith was intensely curious by this point. "So much what? History you mean?"  
  
"More than that", Buffy said emphatically. "There's a lot of stuff. Angel doesn't know that might make things. complicated. Even more than they are."  
  
Faith cocked an eyebrow. "Enlighten me then? Come on", she insisted, tapping Buffy lightly on the arm. Buffy realised almost dimly that things were much improved between the two slayers, and she found she was glad for it. She needed all the friends she could get these days, and she and Faith had always shared a sort of. bond that she had missed in the girl's absence.  
  
"What stuff, Buff?" Faith prodded.  
  
Buffy sighed, knowing they weren't speeding past the topic any time soon, not with this persistent Faith on her back. She knew she could trust her, which was extremely odd considering their history, but she knew she could. If she was to confide anything, here it would stay.  
  
"Like. Spike", she admitted at last, releasing an unknown grip of tension tightened around her heart.  
  
Faith frowned, uncomprehending. "What about Spike?" she asked, confused.  
  
"I. slept with him".  
  
Faith burst out of her chair. "*What*?! You SCREWED that worthless piece of vampire?! Holy shit, you're really serious about this, aren't you?"  
  
"Faith!" Buffy hissed, eyes darting around in terror.  
  
Faith waved a dismissive hand. "Don't fret, Angel went out ages ago. No one's here."  
  
She blew out her breath between puffed cheeks, and then slumped back into her vacated chair. "MAN! This is so. not Buffy-like. I mean you were always so -"  
  
"If you start in on me being the fair haired good one, I will beat you to a bloody pulp", Buffy snapped seriously.  
  
Faith held up her hands in defence. "Okay, okay. Jeez, witness me backin' off already." She hesitated. "I still don't really. understand".  
  
Buffy closed her eyes. "Angel knows. something's up between me and Spike", she muttered. "But I don't think he knows just how far it went. I mean it was obvious back at the prison that there was something. not right, but you being. well shot, I guess you were too distracted to pick up on it. Angel."  
  
"Is an idiot when it comes to what's right in front of his face", Faith finished, not without affection. "I know."  
  
She worried her bottom lip, a nervous gesture of hers that Buffy recognised.  
  
"Buffy", she said seriously. "Do you really think that would matter? In the end? So you made a mistake, you sleep with one of the undead. Which by the way, I'm started to see a pattern there." She quickly went on at Buffy's darkening expression. "But anyway, I've always thought Angel's feeling for you were pretty damn clear. I mean, sure he'd be upset, but in the bigger picture he'll barely bat an eyelid because he knows you would never do anything like that without good reasons".  
  
She crinkled her brow. "You had. reasons, right?"  
  
Buffy moved her shoulders. "Well, I was all. back from the dead. Again".  
  
Faith nodded in satisfaction. "See? Exactly the punchline here, B. And I'm not opposed to a little pick-me-up screw myself, know what I mean?"  
  
Buffy frowned at her, but knew she had to correct her.  
  
"It wasn't just once."  
  
Faith whistled through her teeth. "Ok-ay. Despite what I said? I wouldn't mention that little fact to Angel if you can help it. I mean once is enough of a shocker. And I don't think he's too hopped up on the dude, either. Which come to think of it, makes two of us. He did shoot me, after all".  
  
"I didn't forget, Faith".  
  
She met her fellow slayer's eyes, and there was something communicated there, a profound empathy that told Buffy Faith really did understand.  
  
They were a lot alike really; maybe that was why Buffy had been able to accept her so effortlessly again. She finally understood what Angel had been trying to say when he told her that everyone made mistakes. Everyone fell down.  
  
"Buffy-" Faith started softly.  
  
Buffy warded her off. "Don't Faith", she responded quickly. "It's all past".  
  
Faith nodded, with a small smile. "If Spike's at least partially responsible for this new you?" she said. "Maybe I can almost forgive him on the shooting deal".  
  
Their moment was abruptly interrupted as the back door burst in on its hinges, and a moment later Gunn appeared, completely out of breath and extremely tense, features twisted and taut with anxiety.  
  
"Good, you're here", he exclaimed breathlessly. He gestured over his shoulder. "You guys should. come see this. Angie, she's. You better come".  
  
He started off again without waiting for them, and Buffy and Faith exchanged a worried glace before following closely after into the bright sunlight.  
  
Gunn sprinted off down the alley ahead of them, and the only sounds were their wheezing breathing and their feet pounding hard on the gravel.  
  
"Hope she's okay", Faith grunted.  
  
Buffy looked at her, as they ran side-by-side, just keeping Gunn in their view. His fear seemed to act as adrenaline, and he was well ahead of the slayers at the other end of the alley, and turning a corner.  
  
"You know her?"  
  
Faith nodded. "Yeah", she rasped. "We've done a few patrol busts together. Real nice chick".  
  
They swerved the corner, and slowed their pace when they saw Gunn pull to a stop up ahead, over a dark shape strewn to the side of the alley, where two others were already gathered. He was hunched over to catch his breath, but nothing could hide his evident distress as Buffy and Faith pulled up short beside him.  
  
"Gunn, what's.?" Faith trailed off.  
  
Buffy followed her gaze, and her heart contracted painfully.  
  
Lying on her back, head tilted up to face the sky, was the lifeless figure of a young black woman, twenty-five or six at most. Her silky black hair was spread unkemptly around her features, and her mouth was open in a silent scream of terror, but it wasn't her mouth that Buffy was involuntarily drawn to.  
  
Her eyes.  
  
They were missing.  
  
"Jesus!" Faith hissed, hand flying to rest on her forehead in shock.  
  
Angel was crouched by the woman's motionless form, and he glanced around at his friend's voice.  
  
"This wasn't a vampire", he said flatly, rising slowly to his feet. His gaze locked momentarily with Buffy's before averting away.  
  
Gunn was shaking his head to and fro. "She didn't deserve that, man", he whispered, eyes wide and bloodshot. "She didn't deserve that".  
  
For the first time Buffy saw the result of his trip around them, a brown paper shopping bag full of goods strewn carelessly over the concrete ground a few metres from Angie.  
  
Another guy standing by Angie's feet that Buffy thought was called D.J spoke up. "What about demons?"  
  
Angel was already shaking his head. "They'd be lucky to get in the city gates alive. Let alone make their presence known like this".  
  
Faith closed her eyes, and Buffy gently grasped her forearm, allowing her to brace herself against her. Faith shot her a weak smile filled with gratitude, but her thoughts were quickly diverted by D.J's next words.  
  
"What about witches?"  
  
Buffy tensed for a small moment, inadvertently reminded of Willow.  
  
Faith frowned. "Witches?"  
  
"They might. want the eyes", Angel explained quietly. "For harvesting."  
  
"They wouldn't kill anyone around here!" Faith said loudly. "Not with us so close. No one with any sense would kill anyone here, and definitely not one of our own."  
  
Angel frowned at Faith's outburst. "Someone who doesn't know the area might. Most of the Wicca's don't come into this sector very much. They tend to stay to their own turf in the commune".  
  
"Those people aren't going to risk themselves like this", Buffy protested.  
  
Angel looked at her. "We have to consider every option, Buffy", he said, tone equally icy.  
  
Their standoff was interrupted before anything further could happen, as a male voice called out from the road up ahead.  
  
"Angel, man? We got the truck. Do you want us to bring it in?"  
  
Angel turned away from her, and nodded his go at the figures silhouetted in the bright daylight at the end of the shadowed roadway. "Go ahead".  
  
Buffy narrowed her eyes, and felt something tug roughly on her sleeve. She turned around to see Faith staring at her pointedly, and give a slight shake of her head that left nothing unclear as to what she was referring. Buffy nodded in response, stepping back as the pick-up truck began to back into the narrow space.  
  
A moment later, both doors slammed, and the two occupants got out and approached Angel. She could only catch snippets of their conversation, but she got the gist. They were going to move Angie, so they could take her back to her own group where she was to be cremated.  
  
Vampire or not, they could never take that risk.  
  
Buffy found herself bothered by how the situation was handled, and hearing Faith muttering unintelligibly under her breath beside her, guessed the other slayer felt a similar way.  
  
The three men, as well as Gunn, who looked to be in too much shock to contribute more than a few terse words to the conversation, finally separated, and started to remove something from the back of the truck.  
  
They were closer to Buffy and Faith now, and Buffy frowned, finding something distinctly familiar about one of them.  
  
"Ryan?"  
  
The men both turned at her voice, and she was indeed faced with Ryan's probing dark eyes, that lit up in surprise at the sight of her.  
  
"Buffy?" he exclaimed.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she asked haltingly. She was actually quite pleased to see him again.  
  
His eyes ticked down to Angie, who had now been covered over in a blanket. At least she had that dignity.  
  
"Helping out my brother", he explained. He frowned. "I didn't think.I wondered what had happened to you". He glanced at Angel, who had approached when he realised there had been a lull in their activity. "Guess you found what you were looking for?"  
  
Buffy nodded slowly. "Yeah."  
  
"You know each other?" Angel asked carefully, and Buffy swore there was more than idle curiosity behind his glance. Something more like. jealousy?  
  
"Ryan helped me out when I first got to L.A."  
  
Ryan's friend had already turned back to his task, and Gunn had moved in to help him.  
  
Ryan shot Buffy a grim look. "You knew Angie?"  
  
Buffy shook her head. "No".  
  
She knew her presence here must be strange to him, and she remembered he had no idea of her past. She didn't really want to get into that particular conversation right now.  
  
"Faith?" she said gently. "Let's go back inside now, okay?" It was clear the sight of her friend's body had shaken the woman, and she slowly nodded her brunette head, as if awakening from a daze. "Oh. Yeah. Sure".  
  
Buffy smiled at Ryan briefly, as Faith started off ahead of her. "Nice seeing you again".  
  
"Yeah. You too".  
  
Her gaze darted over Angel, to see he was watching her guardedly. She quickly turned away, and started after Faith's departing back.  
  
They were standing not far from the entrance to the apartment when Buffy paused, sensing movement upstairs. Her green eyes ticked to the second floor, and she saw a shadow in one of the windowpanes.  
  
Watching them.  
  
Faith paused on the stairs, and strode back to her side in concern. "Buffy?"  
  
Buffy blinked, and the image disappeared. She pointed to the window.  
  
"What room is that, Faith?"  
  
Faith wrinkled her brow. "Oh. uh, its usually a spare. It's Wesley's room for now."  
  
She tilted a perfectly plucked eyebrow. "Why? Somethin' wrong?"  
  
Buffy started, and then hastily shook her head, but she couldn't quell a deep sense of misgiving welling in her gut. "No, no. Nothing. wrong".  
  
She glanced at Wesley's window with one last wary expression.  
  
"Nothing".  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
The shadows were thick around him as he watched Buffy retreat back inside the building, and Wesley drew the curtain across, so the sunlight could no longer invade the room.  
  
Buffy.  
  
She was trouble.  
  
He had hoped her preoccupation with Angel would distract her long enough, but he realised his foolishness. He had underestimated her, and it was underestimating a slayer that could be his ultimate undoing if he wasn't careful. He was being too sloppy, too eager to get things completed, and now he was going to have to be twice as alert.  
  
This was going to slow him down.  
  
He turned to the pentagram still marked starkly in the wooden floor, and the red amber glowed in the darkness, invoking the dark magick surrounding it. He had covered it with a ratty throw rug when he wasn't there, which seemed to be less and less now.  
  
But if the others were concerned for his reclusive behaviour, they weren't saying anything.  
  
The Summoning was too close to arouse any suspicion. If Buffy and Faith and anybody else got too close to the truth now, it would ruin everything. His carefully laid plans, perfected over five long years trapped in his prison, wasted. Pushed on by his bitter hatred.  
  
It was like a disease for him now, this hatred. So absolute it blocked his senses until he could see nothing else.  
  
He wanted nothing more that to see Angel suffer as he had.  
  
For once the bloody ponce isn't feeling too guilty on that front, he thought disdainfully.  
  
He pushed the thoughts away, focusing on his latest accumulation, wrapped carefully in a damp towel. He withdrew them now, placing the offering accurately in the centre of the pentagram.  
  
The eyeballs seemed to stare up at him accusingly when he took a step away, and Wesley couldn't help but avoid their condemning stare. The memory of the woman's pleading screams echoed in his head, and he forced them to disappear.  
  
It didn't matter. None of this mattered.  
  
Angel didn't realise the vampire's true intent, but he did.  
  
Humanity was allowed to exist for now, while its numbers were still reasonably high. Disease and poverty would soon see to that, if not the vampires themselves. Then the fun would really begin. Then the vampire's takeover would truly be complete. They had eternity, and they were surprisingly patient these days.  
  
One day the world would be as it was, the vampire's would really lead, and the humans nought but their humble slaves.  
  
Wesley had once had complete conviction in the slayer and all she represented, but he had no such qualms now. Buffy would not be able to stop this from coming to pass, nor Angel, prophecy or no.  
  
So Wesley would get there first.  
  
If they knew, perhaps they could appreciate it. To be fair, he wasn't giving them a choice in the matter. But what choice could they really have? In the end, perhaps he was working for Good. He would extinguish the vampires; turn them to dust with their ancestors.  
  
He was only taking the world with them.  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
TBC 


	6. Nemesis

~*~*~*~*  
  
I hope she's strong enough to make it. Peace is not an easy thing to find.  
  
-'Sanctuary'  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
BROKEN WORLD SERIES -  
  
Part Six: Nemesis  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
He slid along through the darkness like a sinister shadow itself, and he was already being pursued.  
  
He could sense the feel of iniquity they brought with them, and drew deeper into the shadows, gazing uneasily around. He couldn't afford a confrontation, not with them. But they would hunt him like a wild dog, and perhaps it was best to reveal himself before they killed him like one.  
  
Sighing deeply, he detached himself from the cover of night in a show of surrender.  
  
The road was empty, as it always was at night. He didn't even need to take two steps before an engine roared the night, and the long menacing shape of a black limousine slinked over the road towards him, and came to a stop not two metres from where he stood. He didn't twitch.  
  
He turned his head as if to flee the other way, and the other car shot forward, swerving to the side so he was neatly boxed between them.  
  
The rear door to the first opened from within, and the figure took their time emerging. A ripple of an emotion he couldn't determine ran throughout his body.  
  
Her.  
  
Of course.  
  
"Wesley Wyndham-Price".  
  
Lilah Morgan swept her lengthy brown hair nonchalantly over one shoulder, and smoothed over her knee length black business skirt, as if the conversation they were about to delve into could be nothing deeper than the weather.  
  
Her cold dark eyes moved slowly upward to penetrate his, and a wicked smirk pulled at the corners of her lips, anticipating what she was so sure she would see in there.  
  
Instead all she saw was emptiness.  
  
Annoyance flickered across her face, but she quickly replaced it with her trademark evil grin. He didn't those teeth had ever been exposed for something joyful before.  
  
"Well, it's definitely been a while", she commented flippantly.  
  
Wesley resisted the urge to grimace. "Yes, it really has."  
  
Maybe not long enough, he added to himself in contempt.  
  
She paced slowly back and forth before him. "Life hasn't been treating you especially well, huh? You look like Hell. But I do hear 7H is kinder on their prisoners than most".  
  
He scoffed cynically. "Then you heard wrong".  
  
"Ah."  
  
Wesley narrowed his eyes impatiently. "What is it you want, Lilah?"  
  
Lilah ran her tongue slowly over her lips, as if seeking the right words. "I believe we can help each other", she settled at last.  
  
Wesley chuckled humourlessly. "Me, help Wolfram and Hart you mean? What could possibly make you believe that I would do that? Did you think perhaps you could persuade me with your. well, I want to say womanly charms, but the term seems somehow embarrassingly unfitting, does it?"  
  
Lilah sneered at him with something akin to hatred. Oh, she didn't want reminding of that.  
  
"That honeymoon was over long ago, Wes".  
  
"I don't believe it ever begun".  
  
She was tired of their banter, that much was clear. "You know the Summoning can never go ahead without a power source, right?" she said bluntly.  
  
Wesley cocked an eyebrow, inwardly not surprised in the least how fast Wolfram and Hart had been catching on to the game. He had expected that. From them.  
  
"Should I know what you're talking about?" he inquired carelessly instead.  
  
Lilah rolled her eyes. "Please. I was hoping we could skip the lacklustre denials for the night. I have more pressing paperwork to get back to at the office."  
  
Wesley shrugged. "Fair enough."  
  
"L.A. while as cheery with bloodshed as it is, is nowhere near what you'd call extensively powerful. Well, not technically", she went on indifferently. "However there is a quaint little town not two hours north of here that might come a little closer to filling that quota. Nice climate, real holiday town. I believe you know it. Sunnydale?"  
  
Wesley refused to show his surprise. He had hoped it wouldn't quite amount to that drastic an action. For all his desires, on the bottom of the list was to ever return to that damned place.  
  
"Even if I were to believe you, there's no way to get within ten miles of the Hellmouth, Lilah", he said flatly, tired of their games and very conscious of the underlying sexual tension mounting between them. Lilah wasn't the only one who wanted to forget about that. "Not if you have a pulse."  
  
Lilah smirked. "That's where you're wrong again, Wesley", she said, in an annoying singsong voice that made him want to choke her. "You really do underestimate Wolfram and Hart, after all of this time, don't you? We have shamans and mages and all else working around the clock to gain us access to the little town, and there's not one damn thing the vampires can do to stop us, before we pop a hole right in front of their undead asses. We could claim the town permanently if we wanted to".  
  
He couldn't hide his scorn. "But that isn't on the Senior Partner's charter I take it?"  
  
She shook her head, somewhat disappointedly. "No. I must admit it would be very interesting to watch, but it isn't what they want. For some reason they seem to think you would be an important asset to their cause, and for once, I have to agree with them." He grin grew. "I always knew you'd grow up into the conniving bastard they thought you were. You've been working against them all this time, and Angel doesn't even know it."  
  
"So you want me to perform the Summoning in Sunnydale?" he said with irritation. "That's a bit extreme, even for you. What can Wolfram and Hart possibly gain from all this?"  
  
Lilah sighed as if she couldn't believe his utter stupidity. "We're on a need to know basis here, Wes", she reminded him matter-of-factly. "Even if I could tell you, I don't think I would want to. The element of surprise spices things up a shade, don't you think?"  
  
"You've thought of everything, haven't you?"  
  
"Almost everything." She paused. "There is one thing that concerns us. The pretty little vampire slayer in your midst." She waved a hand vaguely. "What's her name? Bunny, or something?"  
  
"Buffy", he corrected automatically.  
  
"Right", she responded dismissively. "Word has it she was quite a force to be reckoned with in her heyday. Stopped more than her fair share of apocalypses. If she were ever to cross over I see hell to pay for Angel and his pals".  
  
"Well I don't ever see that happening."  
  
She scoffed. "No. She does have an odd attachment to the poor bastard, doesn't she? But then she doesn't seem to be much of a risk these days anyway."  
  
"I wouldn't be too sure of that".  
  
"Well, you would know her better than we do. I've read her files. You were her watcher for the length of about four months, isn't that right?" Derisive smirk he wanted to swipe clean off her face. "Not the shortest in a watcher's active duty, but cutting it close. She didn't like you too much, if I recall. Still, that leaves us a connection. An important connection."  
  
He could see where this was going. "You want me to watch her?"  
  
"Ultimately, we what to know whether or not Buffy Summers is to be considered a threat. With Angel struggling so hard to save her soul, she'll either be reduced to a basket case or we'll have something to worry about within the month". She wrinkled her nose. "Much as I hate the guy, he's good at his Dr. Phil routine."  
  
Wesley had to agree.  
  
He eyed her carefully. "What's in this for me, Lilah?"  
  
"Do you have to ask?" she snapped, tapping her heel impatiently on the gravel. So far there were no other signs from within the vehicles, but he knew they were there, he could feel their eyes on him.  
  
Not that they would care much if anything were to happen to Lilah Morgan.  
  
"We could give you anything, and you'll take it because there's nowhere else to go, is there Wes?" the lawyer continued to taunt. He dimly wondered how on earth she had managed to last as long as she had with the evil law firm. It didn't seem feasible.  
  
"Money, prestige, power, you name it, you got it. But you don't want any of that. You want them to pay, and you aren't one to chew over the consequences along the way." She stepped intently towards him. "We like that. You know I'm right about this. Without Sunnydale, without our help, your entire efforts will amount to nothing."  
  
She crossed her arms over her chest, and came to a stop too close in front of him, and there was deep satisfaction there. She thought she'd broke him.  
  
She probably had.  
  
"So. What do you say?"  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
"Xander, can you pass me that please?"  
  
Xander glanced around at his best friend's voice, and quickly obeyed her command, grasping forward the herb shaker she absentmindedly gestured to.  
  
Willow mixed at the cooking pot, and he smelled the enticing scent in appreciation. "Smells good".  
  
She shot him a quick grin. "I always dreaded the day I'd become Ms. Housewife".  
  
He smiled at the comment, but he knew they both found comfort in the odd domestication-routine they had adapted together since moving to L.A.  
  
Father-mother-daughter.  
  
As he glanced at Danielle, mesmerised with some new treasure one of the kind-hearted wiccan's had leant her to play with and admire, he knew it was close enough to the truth. He was Danielle's father, in every meaning of the word, and if his best friend loved him enough to share that gift with him, then he was grateful beyond expression.  
  
He was worried about her. Ever since her assault she had been. dependant on him, but Buffy's reappearance seemed to have triggered. something else. She was starting to repress. She didn't share her feelings with him over the matter, and that worried him more than anything else, because they talked about everything.  
  
He didn't want to blame Buffy for that, he knew it was his own selfish, irrational reasoning, but he did. He resented her for leaving them when they needed her, for leaving Willow when she needed her, when she needed protection. He resented her for turning up when things were just starting to get good again.  
  
In some ways he envied Dawn's ability to shut her out, but knew that he could never deny her anything, not like that. Willow was his best friend since kindergarten, but when Buffy arrived in Sunnydale. it had filled a void in him he hadn't even known was there. He loved her. Always would. And he knew she was hurting.  
  
I just hope Angel can cure her that.  
  
Much as he hated to admit it, Angel was someone she needed right now. Angel didn't begrudge her, he understood because he could sympathize in a way that Xander would never be able to do. In some ways he never wanted to. He had grown up thinking in simplest terms; there was Good and there was Bad.  
  
The something in between, that was what he could never understand.  
  
Willow was watching him intently over the bubbling liquid, and he didn't notice until she spoke, in that soft, gentle way she had.  
  
"Deep thoughts?"  
  
Xander smirked a little, not wanting to burden her with the direction his mind had been headed. "Naw. Just wondering when you're gonna dish up, because I'm famished", he dismissed.  
  
Her pixie face scrunched up. "Thinking about Buffy?"  
  
God. Can't get anything past my Will.  
  
"Yeah", he acknowledged reluctantly.  
  
She nodded, glancing towards the contents of the pot with less avid concentration. "I was thinking about her too".  
  
Xander pursed his lips. "Shiny nickel for a share session?"  
  
Willow sighed wearily. "She was. different. Didn't you think she was different?"  
  
"Well, sure Will. It's been six years."  
  
"Not just that", the redhead insisted. "She was. defeated. Like she was. so lost. Like nothing really mattered anymore. I know she was glad to see us, but. I don't think Dawn helped out too much on that front".  
  
"Stubborn like someone else I remember".  
  
She spared a wistful smile. "I wish we could have that back again. Our lives. the way they used to be". She looked at him quickly. "Not that I'm not liking our whole thing here".  
  
He shook his head. "I know", he said gently.  
  
Willow moved her shoulders forward in a shrug. "Everything's so strained between us now. She isn't our Buffy anymore. You know what I mean?"  
  
"She'll come round", he said, with a conviction he didn't feel.  
  
Willow raised her thin eyebrows. "I hope you're sure about that, Xand. I wish I had your confidence".  
  
"It's borrowed power", he assured her affectionately.  
  
She grinned. Then she stopped. A strange look fluttered across her thin face, and the wooden spoon slipped through her fingers and bounced on the tiled floor.  
  
Xander shot up in alarm. "Willow?"  
  
She swayed unsteadily, and her eyes rolled back in her head. She staggered, and collapsed toward the floor. Xander lunged forward and caught her in his arms a split second before she impacted with the ground, and lowered her down gently with swiftly mounting apprehension.  
  
"Will?" he cried frantically, slapping her pale cheeks with the back of his palm. "Will, come back to me, please!"  
  
"Mommy?" Danielle whimpered in a shrill voice.  
  
Xander spared her a quick glance, struggling to force his features into an expression of reassurance. "It's all right, Dani. Mommy's fine", he said shakily. "Right, Will? Will?"  
  
"Xander?"  
  
The voice was barely a groan, but the relief overwhelmed him in waves as her eyes flickered gradually open. Her breathing was harsh and laborious, and he reached up to the sink to clumsily retrieve a wet dishcloth and press it to her forehead, where a small line of perspiration matted down her scarlet tinted tresses.  
  
"Willow?" he repeated anxiously, heart thundering painfully fast. "You okay?"  
  
The redhead struggled to pull herself to a sitting position, and her gaze took in Danielle across the room who began to cry dolefully.  
  
"It's okay, baby, it's fine", Willow murmured unsteadily. She beseeched the small child with an outstretched arm. "C'mere". Danielle moved tentatively forward and buried her petite face in the hollow of Willow's neck, her sobs subsiding into uneven hiccups.  
  
Xander ran his fingers lightly over his best friend's hair as if to assure himself she was still there, not as easily persuaded of her good health as her daughter was.  
  
"What the heck happened just then?"  
  
Willow shut her eyes, and her lower lip trembled. "I couldn't. put it into words, Xander. I saw. I don't know. I felt. I could feel something horrible in my stomach." She licked her lips, as if struggling to identify it.  
  
"Something. evil."  
  
Xander drew back on his haunches. "What?" he asked shakily.  
  
Willow slowly shook her head. "Something. coming. I could feel it in the earth. I could always sense little things before, but this. this was different."  
  
Certainty settled across her pallid face.  
  
"I have to see Buffy".  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
The afternoon was unpleasantly cold and nippy, and Faith tugged her denim jacket tighter over her shoulders as she descended the flight of stairs that entered beside the door to the kitchen.  
  
Once Gunn had gotten over his initial shock at Angie's untimely and grisly murder, he had gathered himself together long enough to retrieve the supplies he had gone out to collect in the first place. Faith pulled open the kitchen cupboards, and checked their contents with a critical eye while muttering to herself about the cold.  
  
Buffy was presumably still asleep in her room. Faith was surprised to discover she was enjoying having her fellow slayer around again. Whatever had happened in Buffy's past had caused forgiveness in her that Faith was willing to take full advantage of, and repair the vestiges of their previous relationship.  
  
Apart from Angel, Buffy was the only other person to ever genuinely want to be her friend. She intended to return the favour.  
  
Buffy obviously needed it.  
  
She had only discovered the other day that Buffy and Angel had taken a visit to Red and Xander in the outer suburbs of the sector. It had surprised her mostly because Buffy hadn't mentioned it at all, and she seemed to have delved into an even deeper depression that when she first arrived in town. Faith surmised that things hadn't gone so well, and hadn't brought it up.  
  
Buffy's friends were extraordinarily supportive and accepting considering the circumstances Buffy had brought their lives into, but when it came right down to it, they couldn't understand what it meant to be the slayer, and all that it entailed.  
  
Faith sighed at her thoughts, but she was distracted when a frantic pounding started at the front door.  
  
They didn't bother with a guard - usually D.J or Pete, an ex-body-builder with a hell of a scary frame - not during the daylight hours. No one with pulse who had any sense would come knocking up trouble at this particular door.  
  
Faith paused. Angie's murder was still fresh in her mind. That hadn't been vampire, and that hadn't been sense.  
  
She instantly tensed, and approached the door, halting only to retrieve a thick long stake on the hall table. She opened the door wide, not bothering to use the eyehole.  
  
Faith's eyes widened, and she hastily lowered the stake to her side when she realised who met her on the other side.  
  
"Willow".  
  
The tone wasn't hostile, but it wasn't friendly either.  
  
Faith could feel the chills in response when Willow Rosenburg narrowed her dark green eyes icily, but kept her expression carefully void.  
  
"Faith".  
  
The history was there, and the tension was stifling.  
  
The witch crossed her arms protectively over her chest. "Well, can I come in?" she asked impatiently. "It's kind of cold out here, and I don't need pneumonia on top of my problems".  
  
Faith noted the antagonism without comment. No need to start up a throw down, and she did have a point about the weather.  
  
"Sure".  
  
Willow followed her inside, and Faith closed the door behind her.  
  
"Let me guess?" Faith asked. She couldn't hold herself back. "Buffy, right? Some big hell-all about to come about?"  
  
Willow scowled. "As a matter of fact, yes".  
  
"Should'a known that'd be the only reason you're here. It's not like you'd actually care enough to come for anything else".  
  
Willow arched her eyebrows, and anger settled over her pale face. "Excuse me?" she spat, affronted. "Since when did you become the expert on human behavior?"  
  
Faith accepted the hurt this inflicted by visibly flinching.  
  
"Think what you want about this", Willow went on. "I honestly don't care. I don't want to get into this with you. You don't know anything about it, so don't you tell me I'm in the wrong when you have no damn right. I came here for one reason and that's to see Buffy".  
  
"Well, here I am", the familiar voice came from the stairwell.  
  
They glanced upwards, not having yet moved from the entrance hall, to see Buffy with a dark look across her face. She was wearing one of Faith's shirts and a pair of Cordelia's tan pants, and Faith couldn't help her amusement at the combination, and would have voiced it too, had the situation not been so serious.  
  
She realised then that she had unwillingly planted herself in the middle, and cursed her and her big mouth for not the first time that week.  
  
Buffy was staring at Willow with a look Faith had never seen her direct at her friend before.  
  
"When you're finished with Faith, you got anything hurtful to say to me?"  
  
Willow looked immensely uncomfortable.  
  
"Buffy -"  
  
"Don't think you can come here asking for my help if you're going to insult my friends".  
  
The corner of Faith's lip twitched at the word 'friends', but she remained impassively silent.  
  
Willow nodded. "I know. I'm. I didn't mean to say that. I just saw Faith here and. and." She sighed unsteadily. "I'm sorry, Faith".  
  
Faith shrugged. Yeah, sure you are.  
  
"Whatever", she muttered reticently. She looked up at Buffy. "Listen, B, sounds like you guys have some intense chitchat to get up to. So I'll just head off, okay?"  
  
Buffy nodded. "Okay".  
  
The brunette slayer made a hasty retreat and Buffy couldn't blame her.  
  
She turned her attention to Willow, and walked down the stairs with deliberate slowness. By the time she reached the bottom, both had regained their composure.  
  
"Buffy, I really think that something is coming that you need to know about", Willow began carefully.  
  
Buffy furrowed her brow, but started for the kitchen table where she resumed Faith's forgotten search for food. Willow followed her uncertainly, and settled down onto a wooden chair at the table.  
  
"Buffy -"  
  
"What something are we talking about?" Buffy interrupted abruptly.  
  
Willow paused. "Uh. well. Remember back in Sunnydale. how I can sense certain things? I can feel disruptions in the air and the earth. Anything that doesn't naturally belong."  
  
Buffy nodded mutely, turning around to regard her as she spoke.  
  
"Well today it happened. I was filled with such a sense of evil I've never felt before. It was. all-consuming and intense. it felt like something had invaded my soul."  
  
"I know what that feels like", Buffy muttered quietly.  
  
Willow hesitated, then decided not to address this comment.  
  
"It's coming here. The magicks are already beginning to congregate."  
  
She shivered, and there were goose pimples on her arms.  
  
Buffy frowned with newfound interest. "Are you cold?" she asked cautiously.  
  
Willow looked confused. "I. oh, it's pretty cold outside. There must be a chill into the room or something".  
  
"I didn't feel anything", Buffy observed evenly.  
  
Willow crinkled her eyebrows together. "Must be. just me, then. Buffy. are you okay?"  
  
Buffy ignored the question. "Does it feel worse that before? This sense, you can feel it all the time?"  
  
Willow shrugged. "Yeah. It stays with me. It's like a slayer sense for witches, I suppose".  
  
"But does it feel more intense just now?"  
  
Willow looked deeply confused by this point. "Well, I g-guess. It occasionally comes and goes. It depends on how close in proximity I am to the source, you could say. It's dulled slightly here. because there's a barrier around the building. Does Angel know some super powerful witches or something by the way? The barrier spell around this building isn't your everyday vampire invitation repealing rite."  
  
Buffy waved a hand absently. "Oh, yeah, I think he said it was done by Furies, I don't know." She chewed her lower lip. "So if there was something. strange here. the barrier would make it difficult for you to sense it outright then, wouldn't it?"  
  
Willow shifted. "I suppose so. Buffy. why are you asking all this? Do you know what this evil might be?"  
  
Buffy's eyes grew wide, and then relaxed just as quickly. As though she had pulled shutters over them. "No, no. Nothing. that drastic", she reassured her. "Just wondering, is all."  
  
"Okay. I should really be getting back to Danielle and Xander. I. didn't want to leave them for long."  
  
"Can you go back alone?" Buffy asked worriedly. The guilt was lucid in her expression and tone, and Willow felt immediately bad for what she had just told Faith.  
  
It wasn't Buffy's responsibility to shoulder all of their combined lives. She hadn't alienated herself from her loved ones on purpose, her life had taken as severe a turn as their own when the invasion began, except more so, because she had failed her sacred duty and allowed it to happen. Willow had always pitied Angel for his guilt over the collective sins of his hundred or so years, and now Buffy was much in the same boat, and she was not making it any easier.  
  
She blamed her, as she knew Xander and Dawn did, and if Buffy's words were anything to go by, Spike as well. The slayer's downward spiral had just been resumed by the events the vampires had caused, and this was the result. The tension between them.  
  
The fact that they were strangers.  
  
"I'm all right during the day", Willow assured her slowly. "I mean, I can get back with plenty of time to spare before I'm in danger of being a vampire snack-pack."  
  
Her attempt to alleviate her own guilt was fruitless when she saw her friend's expression change again.  
  
She closed her eyes. "Buffy. I want to, but I don't blame you. I know rationally that this is not your fault. None of this is your fault. Please understand that. Don't ever think that I. that I stopped loving you, because that will never happen, no matter how much distance or time had passed. I know Xander feels the same. and I'm sure Dawn does too, really. She's confused, and her way of life. it can't be making that any easier."  
  
She gently touched Buffy's arm, then rose to her feet. "Promise me you'll remember that."  
  
Buffy nodded slowly. "I know it, Will. I love you guys too."  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
After Willow was gone, Buffy felt surprisingly lighter. She sat at the kitchen table motionless, and staring into space, yet somehow with the sense as if a great burden had just been lifted.  
  
She didn't know how long she sat like that, but started when she heard the sounds of footsteps at the base of the stairs, and the shuffle of feet as they continued down the hall and towards the back door.  
  
Buffy's brow creased, and her heart fluttered oddly in her chest. Without any good reason she could name of, Buffy slowly rose from her chair and moved across the wooden floor with the unnatural silence she had been trained to. Her blonde head peered cautiously around the doorframe, and she budged her weight to the toes of her feet so the floor wouldn't creak under the pressure.  
  
Wesley.  
  
His fingers closed around the doorknob at the far end of the hall, and his hunched shoulders quickly disappeared outside into the waning daylight, as if he was in a great hurry. She realised if she had been anyone but the slayer, she would not have picked up on his noiseless exit at all.  
  
Earlier suspicions nibbed at her brain.  
  
What's wrong with this picture?  
  
Nothing and everything at the same time. That was the problem. She had nothing to pin on him but her inherent instincts, and despite the fact that she was the slayer, that just wasn't enough.  
  
Wait a minute.  
  
Her mind flashed back to the previous day, and when she was certain she had spotted someone watching them from Wesley's window.  
  
His room.  
  
Buffy sprung forward with newfound dynamism, and she hurdled the stairs quickly. She had no idea how long Wesley would be gone, but going by his past patterns, it couldn't be too long. It was rare for him to even leave his room at all lately, and she couldn't help finding something wrong with that in itself, though she was sure if she mentioned it to Angel he would just brush it off. They all wanted some time alone, he'd say.  
  
Yeah, right.  
  
The numbers were still printed faintly on the apartment doors. Wesley's door, 201, was a little further down the hall than anyone else. She rattled the knob. Locked.  
  
She was getting desperate. The further she got, she was sure she was just outside discovering the truth - or something that would lead them to the truth. An inward sense of apprehension she had was running chills up and down her spine that had nothing to do with the weather.  
  
Buffy grunted in frustration. Desperate times called for some damn desperate measures. Took a step backwards, and lifted her boot. She drove the leather toe firmly against the wood, and it burst in on its hinges, splintering slightly where she had kicked it.  
  
She blinked at the dust churned up from the broken wood, and stood back as the air cleared. She swept her gaze uneasily around the cramped room, stepping just beyond the threshold.  
  
A steel framed bed shoved off to the side. A plain white chest of drawers that looked to be empty. Throw rug in the centre of the room.  
  
She strode purposefully forward, slightly disappointed at the normalcy and lack of evidence.  
  
There's nothing.  
  
Since when is evidence right there for all to see? she argued impatiently. The room was actually quite stuffy, and she stepped over the rug towards the window, and lifted it with difficulty. She paused in front of the welcoming breeze, momentarily basking in the cold.  
  
Then she frowned. The heel of her boot was caught on something. She turned and realised a loose thread on the throw rug was attached to her foot, and pulled it free with a flourish.  
  
Her mouth fell open as the room instantly changed. A pentagram. It was secreted underneath the rug, and began to glow horribly bright, and energy swirled over the wooden floorboards, making them distort and shiver in that one area. Buffy backed away, and jumped when a sudden wind picked up from the open window, and the door slammed closed behind her.  
  
Buffy whirled, fully ready to get the hell out of the room, and was confronted with what had been hanging off the back of the door, concealed from her view while it was open.  
  
Buffy staggered backwards as she let out a cry of utter horror, and she tripped, slamming her back painfully into the opposite wall.  
  
Her legs turned to jelly, and she couldn't get up, as shaking overwhelmed her whole body. It felt like her entire central nerves system had just been shut down.  
  
"Oh God".  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
The moonlight shimmered off the alley wall, slick from the recent rains. Faith leant her back against it while she took a breather, and listened dimly to the sounds of night in the distance; voices from the bar around the corner, a dog barking frenziedly. She decided she didn't want to know what had set it off.  
  
Faith wanted to steer fully clear of the apartment while Willow was there. She'd given Buffy and Willow a few hours to sort out their differences and sought out Angel in the middle of his investigation, but suspected it hadn't taken that long.  
  
There was still too much strain there, and she didn't want Willow to feel like she was taking her place as Buffy's friend. So even if the redheaded Wicca was long gone by now, she was playing it safe.  
  
Angel swerved the corner up ahead with preoccupation written all over his face, duster fluttering behind him as he walked, and she inwardly smirked at the whole superhero vibe.  
  
Human or not the dude is serious macho.  
  
She'd had a thing for him once. What girl who had set eyes on him hadn't? He had the whole creature of the night thing working for him, even if he was technically reformed, and he had a shady past that tainted his nobility, if only a bit. He was the first to admit that nobody was born with a heart of gold, but that it was possible to earn it.  
  
She thought that was what kept her going.  
  
But she'd always been cynical on men, and it had been more about seducing him to hurt Buffy than anything genuine back then. Now, well, she was just glad to consider him one of her best friends.  
  
She pretended to examine her nails instead of having the deep thoughts she was having when he stopped in front of her, and glanced up questioningly.  
  
"Find anything?" she asked.  
  
Despondently, he shook his head. "No one even knew a girl called Angie".  
  
So far their luck had yet to improve on investigating Angie's murder. Whoever - or whatever - had done this was no amateur. And the odd tingling in her neck that Faith accounted only to her slayer sense suggested they weren't finished with whatever was in store.  
  
She just hoped they could find out what it was before it was too late.  
  
Angie's death had bothered her, but she wasn't about to think too extensively over it. Faith was intimate with death, that much was automatically a part of the slayer package. It never got any easier.  
  
Faith sighed heavily. "Damn", she muttered. "I was really hoping this was gonna be a hug and cry and learn and grow kinda deal. Well, I hate to be the wet blanket, but I get the impression we aren't gonna do any better. Maybe we should just call it a night?"  
  
Even if Willow happens to still be there, she added to herself begrudgingly.  
  
So maybe she had more than a few issues with the girl.  
  
Angel looked reluctant to agree. "I guess. I just don't like to leave it like this. It's only creating more questions than answers, and it all leads me to think."  
  
" -Something big is happening?" Faith finished grimly. "Got that vibe too. And it's something we don't know about. Which, generally speaking, is not good in connection to big things."  
  
Angel smiled wanly. "We should get back, I suppose".  
  
"Yeah. Either we're gonna have one mega-pissed Buffy on our hands, or maybe we'll get lucky and have the brighter, more upbeat version formerly known as the slayer."  
  
Angel's expression impulsively clouded over at the name, perhaps his own built-in self-preservation instinct. "Right".  
  
Faith rolled her eyes. "No offence or anything Angel, but this second- grader cold-shoulder thing you two have going on is getting old way fast. Even I can call it immature. I thought you talked everything over? It's not like you being the barer of a heartbeat makes that much of a diff.  
  
"You still love her, don't you?"  
  
Faith's acuity surprised him, and he frowned. "That isn't the issue", he muttered stiffly, annoyed that his feelings were so transparent.  
  
"It's totally the issue. You want another. Um, okay, B has an inferiority complex when it comes to the male gender then. Whatever. She has her reasons. Do I even dare speak her friggin' track record?"  
  
"Point", he muttered.  
  
Faith smiled in satisfaction as they rounded the corner the led to the apartment. "Exactly. Call me Dr. Laura yet. The punchline of it is, I can count all of the reasons for you not to be together and it wouldn't fit in a barrel, and you know what? None of it would make much of a difference. Way I figure it, things'll be back to regular-like in no time."  
  
She trailed off as the sight of their building came into full view, and motioned forward. "Hey. What is that?"  
  
Angel frowned, narrowing his eyes to squint closer. A dark shape moulded over the front of the door, swaying slightly in the breeze. The pair moved forward cautiously, uncertain as to what to expect.  
  
A body.  
  
Faith bit down hard on her lip when she realised, and the bitter tang of blood hit her tongue. "Oh shit".  
  
It was D.J. His features were ashen and yellowish, eyes closed. He was suspended on the framework above the porch by his wrists, which were white from the strain of the rope fixed around them, and his shirt was slashed and bloodied. His feet just brushed the floor of the threshold.  
  
Grimly, Angel's fingers reached gingerly forward, and pressed against his neck. He shook his head against Faith's questioning gaze.  
  
"He's dead", he reported quietly.  
  
Faith closed her eyes.  
  
Angel crouched by the man's feet, and ran his palm over the wood panels at the bottom of the door. The wood was split down the side, and it was clear it had been forced in. Angel's face clouded over. D.J. had been on guard duty. He had been dragged from his post, and flaunted out the front of their own HQ as if. what? To prove a point?  
  
"What is this?" Faith demanded. She had evidently made the same connections. "How did they get in? The barrier shields the entire building."  
  
"Someone took it down", Angel said flatly.  
  
"What?" the slayer snapped. "That means we're wide open. Anyone can just wander on in."  
  
"I think that was the point", he responded tightly, straightening to his feet.  
  
He strode inside the door, peering warily inside. "Cordy?" he called after a moment. "Wesley?"  
  
No answer.  
  
He strode further inside, senses on full alert. Faith shuffled in behind him.  
  
"Angel", she hissed. "I don't think anyone else is in here".  
  
He waved a hand at her glibly, and stepped carefully into the living room. And stopped.  
  
"Buffy?" Faith asked, voice strangely hollow.  
  
The blonde slayer sat on the couch with her knees drawn up to her chin, face incredibly pale and distraught. Her beautiful green eyes were wide, and she appeared to be in some kind of stunned daze.  
  
Whatever she had seen, it had spooked the slayer horribly.  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
TBC 


	7. Ashes

~*~*~*~*  
  
It doesn't matter where we come from, what we've done or suffered, or even if we make a difference. We live as though the world were as it should be, to show it what it can be.  
  
-'Deep Down'.  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
BROKEN WORLD SERIES -  
  
Part Seven: Ashes  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
Spike strode casually into the old Post Office he was currently using as digs, leisurely taking his time as he riffled in his pocket and withdrew a slender cigarette from inside.  
  
One bloody good thing about this invasion, he mused vaguely, as he sucked in the comfortingly familiar taste. Don't have to worry about Californian smoking bylaws.  
  
But his mind wasn't keen to dawdle on the past. Well, not that particular past. He kept tracking back to that night he saw Dawn.  
  
In all his years, Spike could fairly say seeing the little Niblet strutting the streets in signature slutwear was one of the most shocking. And he had seen a whole lot.  
  
He didn't know to be disturbed or amused at the sharp turn her life had taken, purely because of what the vampires had done.  
  
What bleedin' Buffy has done, more like.  
  
Years ago Spike would have been enjoying himself immensely at this point. Life was going grand, for the common vampire anyway. The humans were mere cattle, the old ones had taken back the control, and their influence had spread so far he wasn't even sure there were any clean cities around anymore. There was all the blood he could eat, no paltry police and criminal laws to abide.  
  
Life was all blood and peaches.  
  
And it was just too fucking easy.  
  
Everything was too easy these days. Even in the old days, with Angelus and Darla so intent on their campaign for destruction of the human species, he had never particularly had a share in their enthusiasm. He had a love for the violence, sure. That was what being a vampire was, wasn't it? But he wasn't about to go waving goodbye to the world just so the bad guys could have their one-up on humanity.  
  
He preferred to be subtler about his own methods of torment.  
  
Like say, playing with the Scooby Gang. When he was chipped that had always given him his kicks, when violence was tapered to meagre demons, and it had definitely passed the time. Only, in the end, he actually found himself joining their ranks, and what's more, wanting to.  
  
Sure, he wasn't about to go knocking up Buffy's door, begging for a part on the team any time soon, but it was the one time in his life had had actually belonged to something, except with Angelus, Darla and Dru. And it was different to that, because he'd never had to constantly measure up to Angel's standards.  
  
He'd just had to satisfy Buffy's.  
  
But that was different too. Buffy may have been a constant sanctimonious thorn in his side, but she'd known what he was capable of, and what's more, she'd considered him useful. Indispensable.  
  
Needed.  
  
The life of a vampire had always been pretty straightforward. Kill this, eat that. But there were certain aspects he had always valued about it. Like the love of the fight.  
  
He'd be lucky to get in a decent brawl at all these days. Everything was so bleak and depressive, and he found he didn't like the humans like that. It took all the excitement out of it.  
  
He was bored. Honest and downright truth, he was damn bloody bored.  
  
Sighing wearily, he rounded the corner, ducking past the old postmaster's desk to the rooms out the back that he occupied. When he heard the voices. Tense and anxious, he could tell by the tones.  
  
Which was an unusual thing in itself, considering the amount vampires had to be anxious about.  
  
Narrowing his eyes, he softened his footsteps, not slightly out of practice, and slid over the wall that led to the vampires without a single sound.  
  
". someone's killing them. They leave the bodies in the street. You know how Wolfram and Hart are. They like everything clean, and you know you have to get rid of dinner if you want to stay on their good side. This guy, whoever he is, isn't afraid of them. He's leaving a trail all around town, and they're going to find him before you can say the words 'blood bank'".  
  
"Good", another, deeper voice grunted in response. "Probably some idiot from that wiccan commune. We don't need those people coming in here, messing with our territory."  
  
"I don't know why they don't just wipe them out for good", the other mused. "That's perfectly good food just going to waste. I heard from someone who fed off a witch once, said it was almost as good as a slayer's."  
  
Spike didn't wait to hear any more.  
  
Before the vamp could finish, he lunged forward, griping the scrawny little creature by the neck and slamming him roughly against the wall.  
  
"So", he started in a snarl. He didn't like it when his lackeys kept things from him. "A little birdie whispered to me that you might know something interesting. Is that right, mate?" he hissed into the vampire's face.  
  
His eyes widened in terror at the force of Spike's grip, and Spike nearly rolled his eyes. They needed to have a screening process about who they turned these days.  
  
The other vampire stood by, looking faintly amused, and it was clear he had just been humouring the younger one. Spike would deal with him later.  
  
"Come on then?" he prodded, none too gently. He couldn't explain it, but something in the vampire's words had struck a nerve in him, and suddenly it seemed terribly urgent to discover what he knew. "I may be living forever, but I don't fancy wasting my time here with you for five minutes. Do you even know what sodding soap is?"  
  
The young vampire quivered. "What do you want to know?" he rasped.  
  
Spike released his chokehold.  
  
"Right then", he said happily. "Who's this bloke been trussing out bodies all over the city then? Wicca you said?"  
  
The guy looked uneasy. "Well, I couldn't be sure. I mean it's just what I heard."  
  
Spike leaned closer. "Do you want me to hit you?"  
  
If Willy the Snitch had a long lost twin brother out there, Spike figured he'd just found him.  
  
Willy-vamp gulped. "All right! I heard talks he's tied in to Wolfram and Hart", he explained frantically. "That's why they're letting this go on, undetected. The underground don't like it, even the humans are starting to get funny. They think he's up to something big. Something called The Summoning".  
  
Spike cocked an eyebrow. Interesting. So someone decided to liven things up a bit, eh?  
  
"This Summoning? What, this fucker decides to let loose a few Wicca magick tricks, huh? Good for him. Place needs some serious excitement".  
  
The vampire shook his head. "You don't understand. The Summoning has never been performed by any mere mortal, and not for thousands and thousands of years."  
  
Spike glanced at him. "You weren't a librarian in your lifetime or anything were you?"  
  
He sighed, shaking his head. "All right. Something big and ugly going down. Wolfram and Hart are right behind him? Well, can't say it surprises me." His raised his brow as a thought occurred.  
  
"Say", he drawled. "How do you know all this, anyway?"  
  
Willy-vamp's eyes bulged. "I just. things I hear." he stuttered.  
  
Spike took a step closer, eyebrows furrowing together into a deep frown. "You wouldn't be in on this little establishment, would you? Because I must admit, that does put me in a bleedin' difficult position, doesn't it? What with you going back to report to the boss who you ran your mouth off to, and them needin' to make corrections."  
  
He didn't bother to finish, and produced a stake from his jacket. Always good to have one handy.  
  
Willy-vamp opened his mouth in protest, but it was already embedded in his chest. He disappeared in a cloud of ashes.  
  
Spike turned to the other, whose smile had instantly disappeared.  
  
The blonde vampire shrugged impassively. "What can I say? Sorry, mate. Demon's gotta do." he plunged it forward. ".What a demon's gotta do".  
  
As he scraped the dust negligently from his pants, a spark of worry couldn't help but imbed itself in his mind.  
  
The world was in serious trouble. Again.  
  
Maybe it *was* time to go knock up certain people's doors.  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
Faith's voice cut into her consciousness, so desperate and scared. Not Faith.  
  
Buffy let that thought register before she slowly raised her chin, gaze wavering over both of them, her fellow warrior; her sister slayer. And him. Her soul. He so often spoke of her as his salvation, when truly, he had been hers.  
  
". You'd think with all of the people I've seen dead, it wouldn't affect me much now", the slayer muttered, to no one in particular.  
  
Angel and Faith exchanged a startled glance.  
  
"Buffy".  
  
Angel strode forward with faltering, hesitant steps.  
  
She blinked. Feeling. nothing. Searching inside and nothing. No emotion at all. A blank gaping hole that stretched on for eternity.  
  
"Buffy!" his voice was harsh and firm this time, and Faith quietly berated him from behind. He ignored her, intently crouching in front of the blonde slayer's disturbingly still form, and resting his palm gently to her cheek.  
  
D.J.'s lifeless remains decorated the porch steps outside, but he got the impression that wasn't what had terrified Buffy so much.  
  
He wanted to know what had.  
  
"Buffy, what happened? Are you hurt? Talk to me, baby, please".  
  
His voice rang fiercer the longer her silence, his heart thundering painfully in his chest.  
  
She flinched at the warmth of his flesh, coarse and oh-so familiar as it moulded to her face. His eyes. God, they were so beautiful. Brown and soft and kind. Safe. Safety in this miserable existence, in this world, this life. How could she want to deny him? How could she tell him she could never love him, ever again?  
  
"He. he did it", was all she could manage to say. "I knew he did. I didn't say anything, but I knew he was up to something."  
  
Faith's brow creased, and she stepped haltingly forward, feeling so utterly helpless and weak. And wanting to understand.  
  
"Who did what?" she asked softly.  
  
Why was it she felt like the outsider in the room when these two were together?  
  
Buffy's face contorted like a child's. "I can't. Don't go up there, Faith. Promise me you won't go up there." A shiver ran through her body.  
  
Angel glanced over at Faith, features uncertain. Something seemed to be dawning over Faith's expression, comprehension. She knew.  
  
Angel was beginning to think he did too.  
  
Without sparing either slayer a further glance, he drew to his feet and started slowly for the stairwell. Faith heard them creak beneath his weight and watched as his shadow was swallowed by the darkness above. Buffy didn't protest his going; Faith wasn't at all sure she had even realised it, she was in such a daze.  
  
The body, she thought, faintly. We should get rid of the body, out the front. And the barrier. We're vulnerable, they could come back.  
  
Even as she thought it, she knew they weren't coming back. *He* wasn't coming back. Because he had done whatever he was supposed to have done.  
  
The sofa shuffled, and she started. Buffy. She'd almost forgotten she was there.  
  
"Buffy, honey?" she forced her tone to be soothing. Compassionate. So totally out of character for her. Yet something in Buffy brought it out. "B, do you need anything? Some. some coffee maybe?"  
  
Does she look like she needs *coffee*? an inner voice shrieked. Faith pushed on. "I think I could. find some. I mean Gunn got a little on his latest supply jaunt. Cordy's hooked on the stuff, I personally can't stand it." She was rambling.  
  
Buffy shook her head mutely. The focus was filtering back into her eyes. Gradually.  
  
"I'm fine", she said softly.  
  
Faith's eyebrows knotted together and she sank onto the sofa beside her friend.  
  
You don't look so fine, Summers.  
  
Without a word, she ran a hand consolingly over Buffy's blonde tresses. Buffy remained silent, but when Faith drew her to her shoulder, she complied, leaning her head against the offered support, and closing her eyes tight.  
  
They were in that position when Angel returned. His face was pale, more so than usual.  
  
Faith's eyes took him in as he slowed his pace in the room, expecting the worst.  
  
She wasn't to be disappointed.  
  
"Ryan." he barely managed. "He's."  
  
Faith nodded, stifling the urge to sling off a string of lewd, cursing swear words. Angel didn't need to say anymore. His expression said more than if he had flashed it up on a bright neon sign in the middle of Times Square.  
  
Jesus, Ryan.  
  
Whatever Angel had seen up there, it had changed him somehow, as it had reduced Buffy to the state she was in now. Faith inwardly shivered.  
  
What the hell did he *do*?  
  
Then her eyes narrowed, growing hard. The recent epic of events had only increased her own qualms, and now it just seemed all too likely.  
  
"Can we narrow it down to our one and only suspect?" she spat.  
  
He looked away, guilt written all over his face. Never have enough of that, she thought dully.  
  
"Yeah".  
  
A hundred 'I-told-you-so's' died in her throat at the utter anguish in his eyes.  
  
"So he took down the barrier?" she said instead.  
  
"Looks like. Whatever Wesley." The words were said with downright bitterness, and Faith knew that any leftover warmth he felt for the watcher had extinguished along with D.J and Ryan's lives. "Well, this is the big- time now".  
  
"If he'd wanted to kill us, he wouldn't have given us such the major gloat", Faith mused. She absently stroked Buffy's forehead with her thumb. "D.J. was put on display out there like some relic at a history museum for Christ's sake. Hell, to him it was probably a work of art. He's playing with us, for real now."  
  
"He wants us to know who has the power here", Angel said with aversion, eyes flickering over Buffy in concern. "And it definitely isn't us."  
  
He took a sustaining breath, and shook his head. "He isn't finished."  
  
Sounds of footsteps erupted from the back entrance, interrupting them further, and all three glanced around just as Gunn and Cordelia strode into the room. Both stopped, taking in the huddled slayers, and the grim expressions everyone was wearing.  
  
"What happened?" Cordelia asked abruptly, alarmed.  
  
Angel closed his eyes; relieved his two friends hadn't used the front entrance.  
  
Thank God for small miracles.  
  
He uneasily repeated what he had just informed Faith. When he was finished, Gunn's eyes blazed with disbelief and anger, and unlike Faith, he wasn't unhappy about speaking up about it.  
  
"So, it's good to see where that judgement of yours will lead us", he said coldly, emotions roiling off him.  
  
"Gunn-" Cordelia tried, reaching for him.  
  
He shook her off. "No. Do we LOOK like we could use this crap, on top of everythin' else?" he demanded. "How are we supposed to trust you, man, if this is what ends up happening? You're the one who waved the white flag; let Wes out on the streets. And now people are dead".  
  
"That's a bit of a negative spin on the paraphrasing", Faith muttered, drawing her knees to rest under her chin as her brown eyes flashed between the two men.  
  
"You think I don't know that this is my fault?" Angel snapped, clenching his jaw. He waved a hand. "I made a decision, and it was the wrong one, okay? I realise that."  
  
"Right, so you just gonna add it onto the 'guilty little things I done' pile?" Gunn retorted acridly. "I guess it's gettin' pretty high now, right? Heading towards skyscraper."  
  
"Well, as fun as this is and all, it doesn't bring Wesley here does it?" Cordelia said pointedly, standing to the side of the couch, tensed to break up a full-scale argument if things got that way. The vein pulsating in Gunn's forehead was a testament to that.  
  
The African-American rolled his eyes impatiently, crossing his arms over his chest, which she took as a good sign of submission. "So? We find him. Track him down all detective-like. We were supposed to be some, once upon a time, remember?"  
  
"It's a little more complicated than that", Angel argued irritably.  
  
Gunn whirled on him. "Well, simplify it then! Find us a way out of YOUR damn mess, Angel!"  
  
"And I'm sure these recriminations are helping," Buffy spoke up tightly.  
  
It was the first she had spoken coherently since their arrival, and all turned to look at the short blonde in surprise, as she glared daggers up at them. Angel never ceased to be amazed just how intimidating the woman could be.  
  
Ryan's death had obviously shaken her, but she was anything but frail now, and self-assurance was clear as she straightened herself in her seat.  
  
Gunn wasn't as willing to back down. The sight of the blonde staring obstinately up at him did nothing to faze him at all.  
  
"Right. That's great", he snarked. "Take his side just because you two have a thing going on. One word from the great slayer and that just *makes* our problems go away."  
  
"Hey", Angel warned.  
  
Buffy rose to her feet, eyes narrowed dangerously. "You can paint this any way you want to, Gunn, I really don't care", she said icily. "But we're on the same side here, in case you needed the memo. And to find Wesley, we're going to have to work together. So maybe you want to get over this entire vengeance fixation you have, and help us along".  
  
Gunn seethed down at her. "You think you can just come in here and give orders?" he demanded hotly. "Take the high ground? You haven't been here. You have no IDEA what he's done. I don't need bossin' around by some little blonde chick with a giant bug up her ass."  
  
"I honestly couldn't give a crap what you need", Buffy retorted. "But I care what the world does."  
  
Gunn scoffed. "Right, cuz you were doing so well with that before".  
  
"*Okay*!" Angel cut in harshly, as soon as he saw the hurt cloud into Buffy's face before she could control it. He stepped up to stand just slightly in front of her, unconsciously a protective gesture. He hadn't forgotten the suffering in Buffy's eyes when he and Faith had found her.  
  
"I think that's just about enough. You have your issues with me, Gunn, then fine. Leave Buffy out of this".  
  
Gunn couldn't curb the curl of his lip in utter distaste. His hatred for Wesley might spark from Fred's murder, but time had only augmented it more, and it was pushing him on until he was blind for anything else. The anger was like a corporal thing around him.  
  
"Whatever", he scorned. "Do what you want. I don't care. You guys play rehabilitation-squad. I'm going to find Wesley".  
  
Gunn turned on his back, storming out of the apartment with that one last remark that left anything open to the imagination, and the back door slammed behind him.  
  
Buffy spared Angel a nervous glance. His face read carefully blank, but she could see the strain peering through, and a crease marred between his brows.  
  
Then he turned slowly to regard Faith.  
  
"Faith, I want you and Cordelia to go an old contact of mine", he started wearily. "He should be able to lead you to the Furies, and they can replace the barrier. Tell them it's important. Don't worry, they'll do this for me".  
  
"Furies?" Cordelia noted almost absently. "Wait, those floaty cleavagey trampos who were so hot over your."  
  
Angel loudly cleared his throat, and Cordelia's eyes bulged and flickered over to Buffy.  
  
"I mean yeah. Sure. We'll get right on that. Boss."  
  
She cringed under his withering glare. "I mean nowish. Cuz wow, time is really. of the essence here. And bye."  
  
She started for the back door without a backward glance - trusting Angel's explanation more than enough to leave the front - fearing the glower she was so sure she would see masking Angel's face.  
  
God, the guy really needs to lighten up a little again, she thought.  
  
Which was such a joke in this hellhole.  
  
"And now one of my friends is dead, and another is a potential nutcase out to get us all", she muttered dejectedly. Ever the mood-lifter.  
  
She could hear Faith strutting up behind her, and tiredly, she opened the door, ready for another physically and emotionally draining night ahead.  
  
Because I never have enough of those.  
  
Then all her thoughts were out the window as a dark shape instantly flitted out from the darkness in front of her, and the seer shrieked.  
  
Faith rushed forward, but whatever it was already had their hand clamped tightly around her neck, and stars began to dance before Cordelia's eyes as the air was choked from her lungs.  
  
Next thing she knew, she was free, and she stumbled backwards against the doorjamb, clutching it like a lifeline, and coughing as she sucked the air greedily back into her system.  
  
Angel and Buffy raced out from the living room, but Faith already had the assailant gripped tightly by the lapels of their shirtfront, and it wasn't until his face slid until the pooling blue lights from distant patrol groups, did Cordelia recognise them. Even then it was hard, because she hadn't actually seen him for a good nine years.  
  
Faith took a swing at him. He caught the brunt full on, surprised cry escaping his lips.  
  
"OI!" Spike yelled at her. "Do you bloody MIND?!"  
  
"Do I mind getting slugged in the gut?!" the brunette retorted, eyes narrowed into cold hard slits. "Do I mind you STRANGLING on my friends, and intruding in their HOME?!"  
  
"I wasn't intruding!" the blonde vampire said defensively. "I was knocking!"  
  
"Right, cuz that hand around my neck thing really felt like knocking", Cordelia wheezed.  
  
"What the hell do you want here?" Angel spat, stepping down from the doorway.  
  
But it wasn't he who held Spike's attention. He was much more focused on the other figure slowly descending the short flight of stairs, green eyes focused on him levelly but unable to hide some deep inner turmoil that would never fade.  
  
"Buffy," he started slowly.  
  
She didn't let him finish. Her knee shot up so fast they barely saw it, and then Spike was keeling over against the alley wall, clutching at his stomach in obvious pain.  
  
Fierce, indignant malice burnt in his eyes.  
  
"I didn't come here to REHASH, you bloody bitch!"  
  
"And I didn't come here to get my face bashed in by some reformed serial killer", she replied evenly, and his eyes darted to her mostly faded bruise before he could stop himself. "So really, we never get what we want, do we?"  
  
"I'm guessing you didn't come here to die, either," Faith added, as she withdrew a stake from her denim jacket. "But I'm sure we can squeeze it into tonight's programming".  
  
"Wait!" He held up his hands in defence, even as he heard it hating how bloody poncy his voice sounded. "All right, you slayer bint?" he made himself add. "I call truce, at least until you bloody let me speak before you just shove a redwood through my chest".  
  
"I kind of like my idea better", Faith sneered, but she gazed at Buffy.  
  
They were all looking at Buffy. Even Angel. Buffy realised she had unwittingly been put in charge of discerning this particular vampire's fate, and she didn't like the decision at all.  
  
She glanced at Angel, who was waiting expectantly, but his expression held aloofness that she recognised all to well. He sensed her reluctance, and unfortunately, so did Spike.  
  
The blonde vampire gave a cocky grin as he straightened himself upright, and rested his fingers casually in the belt loops of his pants, so not the reaction of someone who expected to be killed anytime soon.  
  
"Why are you here?" she asked frigidly.  
  
To his credit, the sharpness of her words seemed to sober him, if only a little.  
  
He licked his lips. "All right. Here it is, plain and simple.  
  
"I need your help".  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
Angel wanted to laugh.  
  
There was no way Spike could be that stupid. Come to them, for help, and expect not to find himself on the wrong end of something sharp and pointy, preferably by his own hand.  
  
But even as he thought it, the look on Buffy's face told him Spike wasn't completely misled after all. She was considering it. Worse of all, she was probably going to hear him out.  
  
As far as Angel was concerned, Spike didn't even deserve that luxury.  
  
"Help with *what*?" Cordelia scorned, sounding thankfully, like her old self. He realised his hand was gripped tightly on her shoulder for support, and he quickly let go, all the same keeping the woman in his line of sight. She was still slumped slightly on the door, but the coughing had stopped, and her face was returning to its natural colour.  
  
Spike glowered at her.  
  
"Well, since I'm sure the barrier set up about this joint didn't come down by *itself*, I'd say you don't need a picture diagram to work it all out", he replied scathingly. A smirk pulled at the corners of his lips. "Not even you".  
  
Cordelia bristled, but Buffy held up a hand. Angel noticed that although her stance was aggressive, she was keeping her distance from the vampire, and letting Faith handle the threatening part. He promised himself he would store that thought away for contemplation later.  
  
"Then why the hell did you attack Cordelia?" she demanded.  
  
Spike sighed, waving a flippant hand. "Oh, that was just insurance" he responded dismissively. "I'm not a complete idiot coming here, I knew you wouldn't accept me with open bleedin'. arms."  
  
Buffy's face was murderous.  
  
Spike rolled his eyes. "Fine? You want an explanation? The grandmother of all catastrophes is on the forefront, and you expect me to stand back and do nothing?"  
  
"Not really your style", Angel snapped.  
  
Spike wrinkled his nose at him. "Oh please, you dumb bastard. Tell him how many apocalypses I've helped you lot save, Blondie. Got to be three, at least."  
  
Buffy shifted petulantly. "Um, hello? World's already vampire central. Didn't take that into consideration with this 'saving the world' theory of yours. You just *joined* them".  
  
Spike scoffed. "What else could I do? Vampire with a soul's like a soddin' tragedy case, and I didn't fancy following in Poncer Boy's footsteps. I don't need enemies."  
  
"So this was just survival?" Faith prompted mockingly. "Right, cuz you sure weren't having a whole bunch of hi-jinks back there pounding into us".  
  
"Can we kill him now?" Cordelia whined impatiently.  
  
"Hey. I came here to help, didn't you hear me?"  
  
Cordelia simpered. "All I heard was that you're the evil vampire that took out half our team the other night."  
  
Buffy crossed her arms over her chest. "Why should we believe you?" she snapped.  
  
He looked at her, really looked at her, and for a moment she swore she saw sincerity in his eyes.  
  
God, she really hated him.  
  
"Even if you can't", he said pointedly. "You're still going to need all the help you can get. Aren't you?"  
  
"Makes a point there", Faith muttered.  
  
"Do you know what's going on?" Buffy prodded.  
  
Spike shrugged. "I've got a fair idea", he claimed casually. "You don't have connections like mine and end up with nothing to show for it".  
  
"Yeah", Angel grumbled. "That's what worries me".  
  
Buffy made herself ignore him, for the moment. No doubt she was going to be hearing all about this later anyway. Like they didn't already have enough to argue about.  
  
"It's big, isn't it?" Faith asked seriously.  
  
The vampire snorted. "Think I'd really be here otherwise?"  
  
He eyed Buffy again. "Saw Dawn the other night", he said carefully.  
  
Buffy stared at him. "What!?"  
  
He nodded, satisfied with her response. "Didn't seem extensively concerned over 'family values'. But I didn't kill her. That should mean something".  
  
"I wouldn't say that", Angel said.  
  
Buffy bit her lip, not meeting Angel's eyes.  
  
"I think. we should let him help", she admitted at last. "At least listen to what he knows".  
  
Angel's eyes bulged. She wasn't serious?!  
  
Before he could think anything rational, he gripped her tightly by the elbow and dragged her a few metres away, before speaking to her in a low, accusatory voice.  
  
"Are you out of your mind? A few nights ago he could have *killed* you, and now you're ready to forgive and forget?!"  
  
Buffy irritably shook off his arm, eyes flashing. "Not forget. And certainly not forgive. Believe me, I'll know more of what a monster he is than you ever could".  
  
He found that hard to believe.  
  
"But he's our only chance to stop this!" she went on in a fierce whisper. "Whatever Wesley is up to, it's going down soon, and this is our one and *only* lead. It's him, or nothing. But don't you *ever* think that I will forget what he is. Or how he got there. Another thing that's my fault. You're not the only one that has a list these days, Angel. So at least let me fix this my way".  
  
Angel grit his teeth, and stalked back to the others without a word.  
  
Spike was watching her intently, and Buffy realised he had probably heard the entire discussion. She shivered.  
  
Faith cleared her throat. "Um, I hate to say it, but I think I'm with B on this one".  
  
Spike grinned. "Thanks ever so, pet".  
  
She responded by punching him over the jaw.  
  
Buffy nodded, and glanced at Cordelia. "Cordy?"  
  
The seer narrowed her eyes. "I don't know what Angel's going to say, but I have a feeling it's something similar to what I'm thinking. But it's your choice"  
  
Spike didn't even need to hear the answer.  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
Angel wasn't as convinced of Spike's agenda.  
  
He insisted they keep Spike under close scrutiny, which Buffy wasn't exactly inclined to argue with. Short of tying him up, they decided at last that Faith, Angel or Buffy needed to be with him at all times, although Buffy didn't think Angel liked the idea of leaving her alone with him.  
  
Spike wasn't what she was concerned about. If he was so eager to form a coalition with them, it became clear fast that whatever they were dealing with wasn't something to take lightly.  
  
This was big. In the middle of a vampiric invasion, that had to be - in her book - a very bad thing.  
  
In the meantime, they needed to decide what their next course of action would be.  
  
Spike sat on a kitchen chair in his customary slouch, looking all the world as if he was back in his element, and enjoying it. The others had been sitting around tensely, trying to ignore the fact that Angel and Faith were outside disposing of D.J's remains, when they returned.  
  
With Willow and Xander in toe.  
  
They hadn't had difficulty getting in touch with the pair through Angel's various contacts, for it seemed obvious that there was really only one option to stop what was happening.  
  
They needed the Scooby Gang. The old Scooby Gang. The team that had helped Buffy save the world more times than she could count, that had saved her own life more than once.  
  
Her family.  
  
Cordelia's eyes lit up at the sight of them, and Buffy felt a pang of irritation at her reaction to their arrival.  
  
Danielle was at Willow's hip, and the little girl looked meekly up at the group, keeping her cheek pressed firmly to Willow's skirt. Xander stood beside them, looking more strained that she remembered from their brief previous visit, and waved a hand slightly in greeting.  
  
"Hey gang", he said awkwardly.  
  
Willow gave them a small smile. "Hey", she repeated.  
  
Cordelia rushed wordlessly forward and enfolded the redhead in a tight hug, while everyone else stood by uncomfortably. Buffy hung back. She hated feeling like this any time, but in front of people who were supposed to be her friends.  
  
Until Xander spoke up.  
  
"What is *he* doing here?"  
  
Xander Harris's expression was frozen and blank, but Buffy had enough practice reading him to know what he was feeling. If it wasn't obvious enough already.  
  
Spike just rolled his eyes at him, and she wondered if he was actually enjoying the sudden upheaval of tension. "Oh relax, would you?" he said calmly. "Have your little quibble later, lackbrain".  
  
Xander's gaze turned on Buffy, and the slayer shifted uneasily, from where she stood, resting lightly against the back of the sofa.  
  
"Don't start now, Xander', she sighed, and her eyes were pleading as they bore into his. "Please".  
  
"He's here to help us", Angel explained, leant against the far wall with his arms crossed over his chest. The shadows silhouetted his face, and she wished she could see his expression. "Apparently", he added in a short mutter.  
  
Xander snorted. "Right", he said flatly, looking at Buffy again. Angel's tone was fairly clear. He raised his arms limply. "So? Gonna fill us in? It's slightly alarming getting called up ahead of sunrise with no explanation past 'the slayer needs helpin', so mount up', or something in those words".  
  
Buffy licked her lips, tilting her head. "All right", she started at length. "Wesley's trying to kill us".  
  
Xander's face broke out in a smirk, and he actually started to laugh. Full blown, hysterical laughter.  
  
"You are kidding me, right? That was worth the wake up call?"  
  
"You don't understand", Faith spoke up tetchily. "You don't know what he's like anymore."  
  
Xander shrugged. "Pansy watcher guy? Yea tall, real knack for stating the obvious?"  
  
Faith glared at him. "This isn't a joke, Xander".  
  
He sneered at her. "Right. Cuz you were always shooting for the serious in the old days".  
  
The brunette slayer looked like she wanted to pound on him, but Angel cut in. "Two people are dead".  
  
Buffy looked downward at the reminder, churning feeling in her gut.  
  
Willow's face paled, and her grip on Danielle's arm tightened. "Wesley killed someone?"  
  
"It isn't the first time", Cordelia murmured.  
  
Xander sighed heavily. "Like I don't know enough murderers".  
  
Buffy's heart jolted, but he was staring straight at Spike. The blonde vampire looked vaguely annoyed. "What have you been up to Harris, in the way that makes you all holier than thou with the attitude?" he demanded. "Once you got the mighty slayer off your back, just seems to me the useless in you becomes more obvious".  
  
Xander lunged at him without warning, but Buffy rushed forward, quickly intercepting his path.  
  
"Don't", she said brusquely, green gaze not wavering from his face for a second.  
  
Xander towered in front of her, and for a second it looked as if he was going to take a shot at her too. Then he gave a small, ironic smirk.  
  
"Still defending him", he noted sardonically. "Even after you know what he's responsible for".  
  
"Maybe we finally have something in common", the slayer said flatly.  
  
"Lot more an' that in common", Spike muttered behind her.  
  
"You want us to help?" Willow spoke up pointedly, making the argument firmly closed to Xander before he could start it.  
  
Buffy nodded limply. "You told me you could sense energy in the air? Well, we're fairly sure Wesley is responsible for it".  
  
Willow frowned. Cordelia offered her a chair, and she settled into it, and Danielle wandered meekly to Xander, who gathered her in his arms, and stared at Buffy over her head.  
  
Something within her quivered, before she turned away and returned to her seat.  
  
It was a strange picture, Xander to the side of the room with the small toddler half-asleep in his arms, Willow and Cordelia on the sofa, and Buffy and Angel on opposite sides of the room. Buffy spared him a furtive glance, and realised he was watching her.  
  
She held his gaze for a long time, and the strain there twisted at her heart and made her throat close up, before she quickly averted her eyes to glimpse Willow's thin, worried face on the sofa across from her.  
  
"There's no way Wesley could conjure up that much energy by himself", the redhead protested, crossing one leg over the other.  
  
Faith frowned. "What do you mean?"  
  
Willow glanced at her. "Well, there's no way someone can ascend to that level in such a short amount of time. It takes years of practice and discipline, and even then. These are malignant forces unlike anything I've ever felt. There's no way Wesley would cause that".  
  
"You'd be surprised", Cordelia grunted beside her.  
  
"Let's just assume for a second, hypothetically, that it was possible", Buffy put in.  
  
Willow looped a stray strand of hair behind on ear. "Okay. If it was Wesley, then I guess you'd need to know exactly what he's up to".  
  
Spike raised a hand. "Got that one".  
  
Everyone looked at him.  
  
"And you didn't speak up about this earlier because.?" Faith said distrustfully.  
  
He shrugged. "Well, you never asked for the specifics".  
  
Xander rolled his eyes. "Typical".  
  
Spike scowled at him. "Sarcasm noted and quickly forgotten. It's called The Summoning, apparently", he explained. "Must admit, I didn't think it was this watcher bloke of yours. Never had the stones for this kind of thing, if you ask me personally."  
  
"Well, no one did ask you", Cordelia told him.  
  
Spike titled his brow impassively. "Then I suppose you wouldn't care to know that if he is responsible, he's in thick with our wacky pals at Wolfram and Hart".  
  
Angel's head reared up. "What!?"  
  
Spike nodded with a grin tugging at his lips. "That's right, Charlie. Thought you might find that interesting, considering how much they have it in for you and all".  
  
Buffy frowned. "Wait, pause. That law firm Wolfram and Hart?"  
  
"Get with the bleeding program, Goldilocks", Spike said, somewhat sourly. "It's always Wolfram and Hart. And you think the most evil of us are demons?"  
  
Willow's eyes looked glazed over. "Willow?" Buffy prodded her.  
  
She ran a shaky hand through her wavy red hair. "The Summoning?" she murmured to herself distractedly. "There's no way. Wesley would never be that stupid".  
  
Her small body was trembling noticeably, and she seemed to just take in the frightened looks she was causing.  
  
"Will?" Xander asked worriedly.  
  
"Care to share, or are you taking up cryptic lessons from Nancy Boy here?" Spike added.  
  
Willow shook her head. "The. the Summoning."  
  
"You know what it is?" Angel asked in surprise.  
  
Willow scrunched her pixie brow disbelievingly. "Of course I. The Summoning. This is dawn of time stuff", she stumbled. "It's. it's *mythical* to a witch. There has only been one previous time it was ever performed in existence, and even then. If Wesley is going to do this, there is no way on earth he could do so successfully with a human soul."  
  
A feeling of fear swelled in Buffy's insides. "Will. what is The Summoning?"  
  
Willow met her entreating gaze full on. "It's. a ritual that needs a foundation of nothing but pure, untainted evil. It calls on the pits of hell. And. and opens them to earth."  
  
Buffy's mouth fell open.  
  
Oh God.  
  
"The only other time it was ever done. the earth took thousands of years to recover. Either Giles. never felt it necessary to complete the entire story. or he didn't know. But that's how demons first ruled the world.  
  
"When The Summoning was performed."  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
TBC 


	8. Escape

R rating stands strong on this chapter, guys.  
~*~*~*~*  
  
Together you were powerful. Alone, you are dead.  
  
-'I will remember you'.  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
BROKEN WORLD SERIES -  
  
Part Eight: Escape  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
Purple and red and yellow smeared together over the distant horizon, and the sight was beautiful, a rare find indeed in this austere, broken future.  
  
What a future.  
  
Sure, Dawn had always had her doubts. Like if the world happened to end in high school, or if she was killed in some hell battle accidentally, there was no hope for an imminent career as a doctor, or an author, or. a crossing guard. But she'd always harboured a faith in Buffy, that she would get them through somehow, and that there was something in the way of a future for Dawn Summers that didn't involve vampires and darkness and slaying.  
  
She'd always said never to rely on people.  
  
"Hey, Dawn".  
  
The deep, sultry voice cut into her thoughts, and Dawn peered around from her perch on the back stairwell.  
  
Ivy stood with her arms resting on her waist, one hip thrust forward as if daring you to challenge her. The girl always looked like she was posing.  
  
At twenty-three, she and Dawn had naturally become friends once Dawn first arrived on the scene, being the youngest in the group. Ivy was nice, and she was pretty, with glossy long blonde hair and intense dark eyes that had Dawn convinced blonde wasn't her natural hair colour. She also had an attitude that was match to Faith, and took crap from no one.  
  
Ivy's bold, bright eyes took in Dawn below her, and a small frown marred her features, before she went on.  
  
"Harvey says you can take off. Says he's closing the bar for the night. I think he's entertaining some 'special customers' of his."  
  
'Special customers' usually referred to vampires. Anyone Harvey had to bribe for something; electricity, gas, water. And more often than not cigarettes and crack.  
  
Dawn inwardly shuddered, but she plastered a smile on her face. "Cool. Business was getting pretty slow in there, anyway".  
  
Ivy nodded. "Yeah. They probably got the word that there were gonna be some vamps in tonight and kept clear."  
  
Dawn made herself smirk.  
  
Ivy flicked her tongue over her lips, turning to retreat back inside. She paused, and raked her dark eyes over Dawn once more as she regarded her levelly. "Oh, I forgot to mention. There was some guy here looking for you before", she started curiously. "There a new boy you forgot to bring up?"  
  
She kept her voice carefully devoid of emotion, but Dawn knew her better than that, and could tell she was slightly miffed Dawn hadn't thought to share with her.  
  
Dawn straightened to her feet. "There's no. guy. Who was he?"  
  
Ivy shrugged. "Search me. I just figured he was your man, and told him to go look for you at home. Only afterwards I found out you were out on a job for Harvey, so if he thinks you stood him up, you can blame me."  
  
Dawn frowned. "I told you, there's no guy."  
  
Ivy's eyes flashed suspiciously, but she brushed it off just as quickly. "Okay."  
  
"What did he look like?" Dawn pressed. "Did he. have weird spiky brown hair? Or bleached blonde?"  
  
That's just what I need, she thought to herself. One of those two ferreting me out.  
  
Though she sort of doubted it was Spike because well. Spike.  
  
Ivy slowly shook her head. "No. Neither. But, damn, he was a hottie. Sort of rugged look about him. I thought he might be a bit old for you, but well. don't we all mix and match?"  
  
Dawn ignored the statement. Who did she know who fit that description? Nobody came to mind.  
  
"You said you sent him to my place?" she asked, voice strangely hollow.  
  
Ivy frowned. "Well, yeah. I didn't think it would be much of an issue. Like I keep tellin' you, I thought you knew him. Listen, if it's a problem."  
  
Dawn sighed. "No, it's okay. He's probably long gone now at any rate. Just curious here, is all. Honest".  
  
Well, she wasn't being honest. Because having some weird guy looking after you at work that you'd never heard of, tended to lean towards 'Sunnydale' behaviour. And considering Buffy was suddenly back in town, big sis had probably brought the crap along with her.  
  
Lovely.  
  
She'd cross that bridge when she came to it, Dawn supposed. Right now, all she wanted to do was head home, and curl up under her sheets for a nice long sleep.  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
For some reason when Angel was handing out rooms, Buffy had been fortunate enough to score a little balcony in hers.  
  
She sat on the ground with her knees drawn up to her chin, and her back pressed against one of the glass double doors that led into the bedroom.  
  
The sun had just set, and there was that sort of low hazy blue glow that usually tinted the sky afterwards. Buffy stared over it dimly, not especially alert to her surroundings, though she knew in all aspects that it was important she should be.  
  
Faith and Cordelia still hadn't managed to get a hold of the Furies to reinstate the barrier around the building, and Buffy had to wonder if that was coincidence. Whether Wesley had left them open for that one single hit. or if he had more planned.  
  
Willow had tried her barrier spell, but that too, had somehow failed. Willow claimed it was the energy in the air.  
  
So, they were unprotected. And though in theory Willow, Xander and Danielle would probably be safer in their own home, Buffy had made them promise they would stay. She wasn't going to loose them again.  
  
It was hard to believe the amount things had changed in the past twenty- four hours.  
  
And how much worse things could be, if they didn't find out how to stop it.  
  
Something shuffled from inside, but Buffy didn't glance around when she heard soft, purposeful footsteps come her way.  
  
Angel hesitated, then strode onto the balcony and stepped into her line of view.  
  
She tilted an eyebrow impassively up at him, skipping pleasantries all together. She wasn't in the mood.  
  
"What?" she asked outright. "Need me to Spike sit? Or has the whole camp- out idea fallen on flat ears and we have some knowledge hunt to go on now?"  
  
Angel sighed with annoyance, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning his back against the steel railing. "No", he said lengthily. "Everything's fine. I just wanted to see how you were doing".  
  
Buffy frowned. "Oh, I'm peachy. My ex-watcher is about to plunge the world into eternal darkness and ironically, even if I do save it, we're pretty much just where we are now. So. How are you?"  
  
Angel scowled. "I just meant. I know it upset you".  
  
Buffy looked at him, tone sharp. "Why don't you tell me why you're really here, Angel, and save us a round seventeen?"  
  
For an ex-vampire, he still looked remarkably broody.  
  
"Fine", he said tiredly. "I think it's time we talk".  
  
Buffy smirked sardonically, shaking her head. "Course. I should have known that'd be coming up any hour now." She held out her palms questioningly. "Well? You use the word 'talk' and I get the feeling this is more a 'you ask, I tell' deal. So what do you want to ask me?"  
  
He looked exasperated. "That isn't why I -"  
  
"Angel, spare me", Buffy cut in, rising defiantly to her feet. "You can mask your feelings to the others with that whole manly-scowly-thing you have going on, but do you think it fools me?"  
  
He seemed to deflate, and closed his eyes, before regarding her evenly.  
  
"Did something happen between you and Spike?"  
  
It was said carefully noncommittal, but he seemed to have forgotten how to mask emotion in his eyes, because she could read them like a book.  
  
She licked her lips. "I thought you didn't want to know", she whispered.  
  
Angel raised his index finger to rub at his temples. "You know, you're right, I don't".  
  
Those eyes said something else.  
  
Buffy took in a deep breath. She didn't think she could stand Angel hating her on top of everything else, but this tension between them was worse. He needed to hear the truth. The whole truth.  
  
"I slept with him".  
  
Her voice came out so calm, so levelly, she was sure it wasn't her own. Angel's whole body froze up, and he stared at her.  
  
Buffy felt her hands shaking, and she clasped them tightly together in front of her, averting her eyes over the railing to the street below. "I thought you'd already guessed that."  
  
"I. I guessed. But I didn't think."  
  
"I didn't love him", she interrupted abruptly. "I never loved him."  
  
"He has a soul", Angel pointed out in a soft voice.  
  
Buffy shook her head, hating herself even as she said it.  
  
"He didn't back then".  
  
She let the silence blanket around them until it was thick and suffocating. She couldn't look at him. Of everyone, except perhaps Faith, Angel had accepted her here, despite her sins. He understood what it was like to have a past you weren't proud of, to crave forgiveness and liberation. But despite what she had said, he did know the monster Spike was. He had created the monster Spike was.  
  
Would he ever forgive her for that?  
  
"You didn't love him?" Angel repeated at last. It was said as a question, though she had already told him the answer.  
  
Buffy frowned as she forced herself to look upward again. "No".  
  
"But you had feelings for him?"  
  
Buffy swallowed. How did he do that? How did he furrow out her most sordid insecurities, without her having to say them?  
  
Because he knows you, another, less-familiar voice whispered in her head. A voice she hadn't heard in a good long time. He knows you like no one ever will.  
  
Buffy felt her lower lip threaten to quiver. "I thought. he could be saved", she murmured, biting down. "I was wrong. Nothing in Spike wants to be saved. If he ever had a chance. it's much too late now".  
  
Angel took this in. He had known this, but to hear it - to hear it from her - was a blow.  
  
Buffy breathed in, and then scoffed deprecatingly. "Yeah, well."  
  
Angel felt a part of him scream, the part of him that knew his humanity meant he could touch her, he could love her in every sense of the word - without any consequence. What does it matter? It cried. He's a demon. He'll never touch her. Darkness would never touch her.  
  
His eyes penetrated hers. She looked old. So tired and old. The light that was Buffy was no longer there, and it had taken him this long to realise it. Someone had taken it away. The damn world had taken it away.  
  
He shook his head, and even as he thought it he bridged the gap between them. His arms wrapped around her. Buffy allowed herself to be pulled, and sagged against him. A single tear coursed slowly down her cheek.  
  
"I'm sorry", she whimpered.  
  
Her face lifted, and she leant into the warm hollow of his neck, tears soaking his flesh and his arms came up to rest over her lower back.  
  
She inhaled his scent. He was so warm. And there was comfort there, too. Comfort in the circle of his arms, where everything else was despair.  
  
They both tensed at the closeness, as if it only suddenly occurred to them. Buffy swallowed, and her forehead moved to press into the solid wall of his chest, breathing shallow. She could feel her own body quiver, but any thoughts of protest were drowned out of her mind.  
  
Screw this control crap. Screw being mature. She wanted him. She *needed* him.  
  
Now.  
  
She had always been stronger than him, even when he wasn't alive. She was the slayer, he was a vampire. A vampire different from the widespread variety, but a demon to the core, her enemy.  
  
The slayer in her clutched at his shirt, and abruptly slammed him into the door, and crushed her mouth over his.  
  
There was no pain here, no darkness, no demons and a world that blamed her. There was just him.  
  
He responded almost immediately, because he needed this too. The longing and desire had been right there between them, ever since they saw each other again; it had always been there. Just caged firmly away, a vain attempt to fill the void in each of them.  
  
It was only a matter of time before it was released.  
  
She was so soft, so warm. He hadn't felt that warmth in so long. He may have a heartbeat in his now-living chest, but inside it was cold.  
  
His mouth grazed along the underside of her jaw, under her neck, over her scar. But there was no demon within him to tempt him now, because he knew what he had been denied he could finally have, he could have her, because she belonged to him. The mark was a proof that she belonged to him.  
  
Angel nuzzled her neck, and she let out a small moan as his fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her closer to him.  
  
They burst through the open door; hitting it as they went and sending it crashing into the wall, but both were oblivious to the pain.  
  
He pushed her to the wall, mouth hovering over hers, breathing harsh. Buffy's green eyes trailed to his, but they focused on his mouth, not his eyes, because there was still so much pain there. Her fingers ran over the smooth, cotton front of his shirt, curling into it as his lips descended once more over hers.  
  
They went slowly this time, exploring each other. It had been so long. Their one and only time seemed like a millennia ago to her, The Day That Wasn't a distant dream to him.  
  
Their lips opened together and she relished the taste as his tongue slid inside her mouth, gently venturing over the long forgotten contours, the sweet, welcome taste. Her slender fingers slid under the front of his shirt; fanning over the smooth, bare skin.  
  
Angel grunted, and drew back slightly, but her touch did not relinquish.  
  
"Buffy." he murmured to her cheek.  
  
She ignored him, wrenching the shirt up, over his head. Skimming over his chest with her mouth, smiling at the groan he made as he struggled to push her away.  
  
At last, she stopped, flicking her hair back to blink innocently up at him.  
  
"What?"  
  
He released his breath, long, unsteady, unable to read her expression.  
  
"We shouldn't."  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes, and then ran her tongue lazily over his lower lip. "Don't", she whispered huskily to his mouth. "I need this. *You* need this".  
  
He didn't bother to argue. He was already reclaiming her mouth, kissing her harder, longer, bruising her. His lower body moved against hers, pressing its hardness into the juncture between her thighs. Buffy whimpered, a needy sound, fumbling unsteady hands over his belt, pushing down his pants.  
  
Nothing mattered anymore. The world didn't matter. Her friends didn't matter. Why did she care so much about pleasing them, when it was so much easier to just please him?  
  
She threw one leg over Angel's hip, and he lifted her up, hooking both legs around his waist and resting her lean back against the wall.  
  
They stumbled over the floor, panting and half-dressed, and collapsed just as they made it to the bed. They were animalistic, pure and simple, as their hands roamed over the other, as clothes were thrown across the room, forgotten.  
  
The fire started inside Buffy; so old she had almost forgotten the feeling. It was never like this with anyone else. There had been others, since Spike, but they had never mattered, they had been cold, futile moments of escape, but she'd never escaped. Not like now.  
  
Angel left kisses over her now exposed shoulders as he hitched her blouse roughly over her head, dipping down over the valley between her breasts, which quivered under his exquisite touch. He teased them with his thumb, sliding over their soft smoothness, nibbling over her hard nipples with abandon.  
  
His fingers found the waistband of her pants, and then he was inching them down, flicking his tongue over her belly as he did, then up again, to her chest, the hollow under her neck.  
  
Somehow he managed to get his own pants the rest of the way off, and he stroked the curve of her warm cheek, planting a tender kiss against her lips.  
  
Then he was back inside, to the paradise he would so gladly worship for the rest of his days.  
  
Her body recognised the emptiness in her life and clung to it with an insatiable yearning and hunger, savouring the contact, and they gasped out loud together at the sheer force of it.  
  
This was perfect happiness, and he could feel it - they could feel it - without guilt, without thought.  
  
Their hunger for each other ran so deep, either wasn't sure it would ever truly be sated.  
  
But this was a good start.  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
The doors burst in on their hinges, churning dust from the old plaster walls behind. Gunn held forth his one-handed crossbow and decimated the vampire standing to his right without a second glance.  
  
He turned his steely gaze around the room to the startled group of vampires seated in the center, clearly in the middle of a pretty relaxed discussion - if the pair of women giving them a lap dance was anything to go by.  
  
Gunn sneered in disgust, and pointed his weapon on another. He was dust almost immediately, and the blonde haired woman nearby screamed and leapt back.  
  
Gunn barely spared her a look.  
  
The lead vampire rose up to his feet in anger, and Gunn warded him off with a joggle of the crossbow.  
  
"Uh-uh", he warned flatly. "You be good little vampires and you won't be joinin' your man with the carpet mites down there."  
  
"What the hell are you doing, human?" one snapped from his seat, eyes ticking to the leader uneasily. He was human himself, Gunn had learnt to distinguish the difference. His clothes were creased and smudged with dirt, and his hair was covered in heavy oil and grease that matted to his brow.  
  
The vamp leader meanwhile, had maintained an appearance of outward calm, but it was evident to Gunn he was shaken.  
  
That was good. It meant he wouldn't need much in the way of persuasion to co-operate.  
  
Gunn's lip curled over in disgust at the man who allied himself with Them, and his trigger finger momentarily faltered on the weapon. But that wasn't why he was here.  
  
"If I was you, man, I'd take your pole-dancin' honeys there and hop on outta here", Gunn ordered tightly. "Me an' your undead collaborator here? We got some talkin' to do".  
  
The leader wrinkled his nose. "I don't think so", he responded coolly.  
  
Gunn rolled his eyes. "Who's the one armed here?" He waved a dismissive hand at the two women and their boss. "Go!"  
  
The women made no hesitation, and scuttled out of the bar clutching at their skirts and hissing to each other in tense, panicked whispers. Their boss wavered indecisively. His instinct for self-preservation was strong; that was clear in his eyes and the thin bead of sweat that broke out on his forehead. But his fear for things greater than death was more extreme, and he waited for the lead vampire's order anxiously.  
  
There was no mistake who was master there, no matter what the weaselly man might believe.  
  
The leader glowered. "Leave now Harvey, and you'll wish Wild Wild West there had cut you a new one".  
  
Harvey gulped, but obeyed, and slumped back half-heartedly in his chair.  
  
Gunn whirled on the leader. "I want information", he spat coldly.  
  
The leader scoffed. "You're not getting it".  
  
Gunn's brow flickered in annoyance, and he shot a bolt from the crossbow into the foot of the vampire's chair. It penetrated the creature's thigh before he could react, and he howled in agony, doubling back to clutch at the wound.  
  
"What, are you insane!" he screeched. "Do you KNOW what I could do to you!?"  
  
Gunn frowned. "Do you know what I could do to *you*?" he retorted hotly. "Or do we need another demonstration?"  
  
The leader held out his arms, halting the three remaining vampires to his sides, whose eyes all glowed bright yellow and wore the countenance of the vampire. Gunn liked it that way. It made it easier, than to think of the human beings who had once born those features.  
  
"All right!" the beast relented fiercely. "All right! What do you want?"  
  
"Wesley Wyndham-Price", Gunn snapped, skipping the banter. "Know him?"  
  
The leader raised his ridged brow. "Can't say I do. What kind of a scary name is that?"  
  
Gunn clenched his jaw. "Okay, maybe we're not clear on that you are the clinch here, man. So I'll ask one more time. Where. Is. He?"  
  
The lackey vamps exchanged nervous glances.  
  
"Following in his tracks?" the leader guessed.  
  
Gunn cocked an eyebrow. "Actually, I was told you might know him. Didn't say he'd been here. But that's a good start from you."  
  
The vampire scowled. "If you want to ask anyone about that, ask Harvey here".  
  
Harvey's eyes widened noticeably. "HEY!" he protested indignantly. "I don't know nuthin'!"  
  
Gunn sighed heavily. "I'm *really* not lookin' to drag this out. Wes came a'knockin' up your place? Why?"  
  
Harvey unconsciously shuddered. "Well, he-he was looking for one of my girls", he admitted diffidently. "She's been on demand of late so I didn't take much notice. Until he was gone, and one of my regulars commented that he was W&H's newest".  
  
Gunn chortled resentfully. "No surprise there. What did he want? Who was he lookin' for?"  
  
Harvey looked incredibly uncomfortable at this point. "Well, I was only just informed of the girl's past. And I can tell you now, if I'd known, there's no way I would'a hired her!" he added hastily. He averted his eyes. "I just figured he was looking for her because of her past, so. so I sent him to her place. Good riddance, too! She might have her uses, but the chick is damaged goods now!"  
  
Gunn felt a sinking in his gut, but he thought he already knew even before he asked the question.  
  
"What was her name?"  
  
"D-Dawn", Harvey stammered.  
  
"Dawn Summers".  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
Buffy blinked as flashing lights played over her closed eyelids, and shifted against her pillow, resting her head over her arm. She sighed deeply, and slowly her eyes flickered blearily open, focusing slowly on the shadowy room.  
  
Her eyes widened when she remembered, and slowly she swiveled around.  
  
To face an empty space in the bed beside her.  
  
She sucked in a deep, calming breath, and instinctively a swell of fear shot through her, which she quickly dismissed when she realized how ridiculous the notion was.  
  
Angel wasn't a vampire anymore.  
  
Buffy's fingertips brushed his empty space, and she swallowed back a burning in her throat. The sheets were still warm.  
  
"Angel?" she called softly, as if her voice would somehow, magically, make him appear.  
  
She sighed when silence met her in reply, and sagged back against the headboard of the bed, turning her face to peer out into the starry night horizon.  
  
I slept with him. I slept with. Angel.  
  
And did it mean anything to him? Was he still tingling with the need to be close to her, like she was right now with him?  
  
Then why isn't he here?  
  
She had never told him, how she felt. They had been so. otherwise preoccupied. But what if he didn't know? What if he thought she didn't feel the same?  
  
What if he doesn't want me, like I want him?  
  
She closed her eyes, unwilling to move from the security of the bed so soon. The warmth she was filled with only hours ago was slowly retreating, and she wanted to salvage it as long as possible. Because she feared when it was gone, she would have to face the truth of reality, and the answers she was going to find might not be the ones that she wanted.  
  
She drew in another lengthy, shaky breath, then swept aside the coverlet and began to retrieve her clothes.  
  
The stairwell creaked under her weight as she descended, making her feel heavy. She combed down her blonde hair negligently with her fingers, and rounded the corner ahead.  
  
Faith and Spike each sat a safe distance away from each other on opposite sides of the kitchen table, both looking incredibly peeved and glaring across the space between them at one another. Buffy felt instantly guilty for dumping Faith with Spike-watch for so long.  
  
Then she felt a familiar tug at her insides, and turned around to see Angel sitting on the arm of the sofa, with Gunn standing tensely by his side.  
  
She felt a sliver of unadulterated relief when his eyes lit up at the sight of her, but the feeling was short-lived when she noticed the taut expressions and uncomfortable atmosphere hovering in the room.  
  
"What happened?" she asked abruptly.  
  
When no one could reply, she turned to Faith and Spike, and noticed the absolutely withering glare Spike was shooting at her back. His lip had curled over in unrequited disgust, and she became conscious of it with a start.  
  
He knows.  
  
Of course he did. She was more than familiar with the ability of a vampire to. smell things humans were inept to, but to realize that she was more or less advertising to him that she and Angel were 'together' made it all the more real.  
  
Might as well make it official.  
  
"What is going *on*?!" the slayer demanded exasperatedly.  
  
Gunn stepped forward, faltered, then glanced back at Angel.  
  
Angel sighed, and nodded.  
  
"I got a lead on Wesley", the black man admitted reluctantly. He crossed his arms staunchly, and she hadn't forgotten what he had said to her before.  
  
Buffy cocked her head expectantly to the side. "And?"  
  
Gunn gulped. "And. well. I don't think his agenda is as impersonal as we first thought out. He was after something pretty specific. Someone, actually."  
  
Buffy's breathing grew harsh. Oh God. Don't be what I think you're going to say, please, I couldn't live, please don't be, Oh God.  
  
"Who?" she managed to choke out.  
  
It was Angel who said it.  
  
"Dawn".  
  
He stepped towards her, but she backed away and he stopped.  
  
"When. when did this happen?" she faltered.  
  
Gunn licked his lips. "Not an hour ago. I. I managed to uh. get her address but. it was too late. It was obvious a struggle went down. Buffy. I'm sorry, but I think he's got her".  
  
Buffy clenched her fists, and whirled, storming straight for the door.  
  
A tight grip on her upper arm stopped her when her fingers closed around the back door handle, and whirled her none-too-gently to face them.  
  
Angel leveled her with a fierce look, not releasing on his clasp.  
  
"What do you think you're going to do?" he snapped flatly. "You don't know where he is."  
  
Buffy glared back. "Yes I do".  
  
Angel's mouth fell open. "Buffy, are you crazy?" he hissed. "You'll never get inside the gates of Wolfram and Hart alive. Or intact. You don't know them. I do. You are a threat. No doubt. Wesley targeting Dawn, isn't this just doing what they expect? It's a trap, and you're about to walk straight into it!"  
  
Buffy struggled to shake him off. "Wesley would know me better than that. Or you. He'll EXPECT you to talk me out of it. Whatever he's using her for, it's not for a smackdown between me and Wolfram and Hart. So I think I'll be pretty fine on the getting-my-sister-back-and-beating-someone-down-if- they-get-in-my-way front".  
  
Angel's eyebrows drew together. "I'm not letting you leave here, Buffy. I'm not going to just let you go out and get yourself killed! He *needs* her! Isn't that clear? And until that stops, he isn't going to kill her".  
  
Buffy glared. "Do you understand that I don't *care*?!"  
  
"Do you understand that I will stop you at any length?" he responded angrily.  
  
Buffy eyed him reproachfully. "I can do you a lot of damage, Angel", she spat in a low, dangerous voice. "Don't think my feelings for you will stop that."  
  
Angel shook his head. "You're right", he said. "And whether it actually meant anything to you or not, I still care enough to stop you going through that door".  
  
"Didn't mean anything to me?" Buffy said, distracted. "Why the hell do you say that?! Of course it *meant* something to me! It will always mean something to me! Last night you made me feel like I haven't felt in a long time. You made me feel alive."  
  
They were only a short breadth apart. Angel stubbornly retained his hold. "We'll save Dawn, Buffy, I promise", he murmured. "Together. I can't do this if you leave me".  
  
Buffy shivered. "I just. can't keep dealing with this!" she whispered, eyes moistening.  
  
Angel gently stroked the side of her face with the pad of his thumb. "I know. I know it keeps coming. But we can get through this. You just have to stay strong. Remember?"  
  
Buffy gave a small, bittersweet smile at the memory of those words, said so long ago now. "I remember".  
  
"Can you do it?" he asked softly.  
  
"If I have to".  
  
Angel nodded, and finally, he released her. Buffy remained where she was. He turned to go back into the living room, when her fingers clasped suddenly around his arm, pulling him back.  
  
He paused, eyeing her searchingly with his intense, soulful depths. "Buffy?"  
  
"I just. I never got to tell you before", she said hesitantly. "I. I love you. You know that, don't you?"  
  
He reached over her cheek, and his fingers sifted her soft blonde hair behind one ear. "I know", he said simply. "I love you, too".  
  
He leant towards her, lips brushing against her forehead.  
  
And Willow's fretful cry broke them apart.  
  
"GUYS!"  
  
The pair raced into the living room, where Willow had just raced down the stairs, Xander following behind her with Danielle clutching at his palm at a much slower pace.  
  
"What's with the loud, Rosenburg?" Cordelia yelped at her, appearing behind Xander with heavy black ringing her tired eyes, black hair mussed from sleep.  
  
Willow's face was pale, and she turned her anxiety-ridden expression onto Buffy.  
  
"The Summoning", she started. "I know."  
  
Buffy frowned, glancing at Angel. "What about it, Will?"  
  
Willow looked grim, and she took a moment to compose herself. "Buffy, I. Let me put it this way.  
  
"We're going home".  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
TBC 


	9. Divided

~*~*~*~*  
  
There's a difference between wishing vengeance on someone and taking it.  
  
-'Deep Down'.  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
BROKEN WORLD SERIES -  
  
Part Nine: Divided  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
Home.  
  
Sunnydale.  
  
The very word sent an irrepressible chill down Buffy's spine, made hot, sharp needles stab over her insides. Angel's palm fell comfortingly to rest at her back, but she wasn't aware of it as she concentrated on her best friend's face, which held a dour certainty.  
  
"What. what did you just say?"  
  
Willow Rosenburg ducked her small head, red hair falling in a curtain over her pretty elfin features.  
  
"That's where Wesley's going", she repeated, going over each word slowly and surely.  
  
Cordelia twisted her face disbelievingly, finding Willow's words difficult to comprehend in her half-awake state. "Are you. sure?"  
  
"He has to". The witch hastened to explain. "The Summoning involves large amounts of energy. A-a power source, I suppose. Not to mention a basis of pure, unholy saturated evil."  
  
"Good stuff", Spike offered, raising a hand in approval.  
  
Willow ignored him. "Los Angeles obviously doesn't generate that much in its current state. But Sunnydale -"  
  
"Home to our very own Hellmouthsville", Xander finished, mouth twisting downward in disdain as he hitched Danielle up into his arms. "How very convenient for him. Considering he's about to open it".  
  
"It's not only him", Buffy reminded him dully. "He's with Wolfram and Hart now. More than enough backing power to get himself inside Sunnydale's gates safe as houses".  
  
"Guess they recruited him at the right time then".  
  
Faith frowned, fluffing her dark brunette hair distractedly. "Why did they?" she wondered aloud. "Recruit him, I mean. It's not like a big ol' powerful law firm all deep in the wacky would need someone like Wes along for the ride."  
  
Willow folded her arms, unconsciously a protective gesture. "I don't understand it either", she admitted. "Wesley can't have that much power that Wolfram and Hart need him to do their bidding. And it can't come without a price on either side."  
  
"They obviously need him for something", Cordelia mused. "The Summoning? That's what's got Wes all in a jonesin', isn't it?  
  
"When is it enough for you guys?" Xander grunted, growing more irritable by the second. His complete lack of sleep certainly wasn't helping the matter. "Those lawyers already have a vice like power over the entire state. Most likely the world, if anything I've heard is even *marginally* close to the truth. What the hell does it take to satisfy you people?"  
  
Spike snorted. "Why do you look at me when you say that, Harris?"  
  
Xander's deep-ridged scowl deepened even more. "Well gosh golly gee, let me think about that, Evildead. How do we even know you're not here working as an agent for them, huh?" he demanded, placing Danielle down on the floor so he could move closer to the slouched Englishman. "Seems to me you show up at a pretty damn crucial moment, and conveniently have information you're more than willing to share".  
  
Spike rolled his eyes. "Right, because I would put myself in the middle of people who *hate* me and risk all my parts for that sodding law firm. Who, I'll have you know, aren't exactly big on the vampire population at the moment."  
  
Xander's expression was murderous. "Well God knows you haven't screwed with us before".  
  
"Guys will you stop it!" Willow Rosenburg shouted. Danielle cowed at her mother's tone, and shuffled against the closest body, which happened to be Faith's. The brunette slayer surprised everyone when she swept up an arm and pulled the small child up onto her lap.  
  
"I don't think either of you realise HOW serious this is!" Willow continued to explode. "We're talking the end of the WORLD here".  
  
Cordelia sighed. "Not like we haven't seen that before", the seer muttered.  
  
Willow whirled to include her in her wrath. "No we HAVEN'T seen this before. I don't know which ones of you were actually LISTENING to me before when I explained to you WHAT the Summoning is, but this is worse than ANYTHING we've ever faced. Anything Buffy stopped back at Sunnydale, and anything the vampires have done since then. If Wesley even comes CLOSE to pulling this off, then the lives you all hate so much now are only going to get much much worse."  
  
Everyone went silent as Willow's voice subsided and the redhead sagged back against the back of the sofa. Her daughter seemed quite content on Faith's lap and buried her face in the slayer's shirt, closing her eyes against the rest of them.  
  
"Hey kid, it's ok", Faith whispered to her soothingly.  
  
A strange look crossed Willow's face, and she looked even more upset that she had been only a moment before.  
  
At last Spike broke the silence.  
  
"This is serious to me if you expect me to go trotting back across the countryside to that bloody sinkhole".  
  
Cordelia sighed painfully. "What makes you think you're getting a guest pass?" she murmured.  
  
Spike gestured around the room, mindful of Willow's penetrating glare. "Look around, princess. Buffs there needs all the help she can get, and unfortunately, not many of you have supernatural blood in your system, 'cept perhaps Glinda and our little miss trigger-happy there".  
  
Faith didn't move her head as she leant across the tiny tabletop and smacked him over the underside of the skull.  
  
"He's right", Buffy admitted quietly as the blonde vampire cried out in indignation. Willow and Faith's collective abilities were the best they had.  
  
She exhaled heavily.  
  
But it wouldn't be enough.  
  
"Uh, I have an interesting question for our audience tonight", Gunn spoke up quietly, waving a hand impatiently as he stepped forward from his position in the shadows. "What the hell do we do about Wesley once you get to Sunnydale? You gonna kill him?"  
  
Angel frowned. "He's still human".  
  
"By whose judgement? Yours", Gunn scoffed. "Yeah, that always blows over well. There's only one solution to this, man. Wes deserves to die."  
  
Buffy had noticed almost immediately after meeting Gunn that he had one straightforward tapered view of how he saw everything, and this was one of those things she didn't see them changing his opinion on. His thirst for vengeance for whatever Wesley had done to him was so deep-rooted in his personality that he wasn't willing to face the possibility that there wasn't just one option here. She got that.  
  
She had been faced with similar decisions before. And as she had told her friends, her position as the slayer meant she made the ultimate verdict. She made the distinction between right and wrong. She'd done it when she plunged a sword through Angel's unbeating heart, even when she had loved him with all her soul. She'd done it when going after Faith, who had once been her closest friend and sister slayer.  
  
Wesley was no different.  
  
But then it wasn't really her decision this time, the way she saw it. She had made mistakes, and what right did she had to illustrate her authority here, when she didn't even know the man Wesley had become when under Angel's employment, and definitely didn't know what he had become afterwards and the crimes upon humanity he had committed?  
  
"It isn't up to us", the small blonde said slowly, conviction filtering through her voice none of them could mistake.  
  
Gunn turned to look at her charily. "What the hell do you mean by that?" he asked sharply.  
  
Buffy sighed. "It *means* that this isn't your decision. You don't just get to decide whether or not Wesley lives or dies because you hold a grudge."  
  
"No" Cordelia spoke up. "But he deserves to die because of what he's done. He's a murderer, Buffy. I know you haven't been around, but *I* have. You don't know Wesley like we do. Prison might work in someone like *Faith's* case, but Wesley is going to destroy the world here."  
  
Faith coughed loudly, while Willow said, "Uh, been there, done that".  
  
Willow pursed her lips into a tight line when she held everyone's attention again. "That's right. I killed people and I tried to end the world. Death isn't the alternative here. Gunn, I know you're used to thinking with your fists and I respect that. But there's something deeper here. Wesley might still have a chance".  
  
"And if he doesn't?" Gunn prompted, surprised and if little impressed by the bold confession of the tiny frail-looking redhead.  
  
"If he doesn't, we'll do what we have to do", Buffy said softly. "Either way, I can promise you the world is not going to suffer because of somebody else's selfish actions. Not this time.  
  
"I won't make the same mistake twice".  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
Wesley's back was rigid as he surveyed the darkened city beneath him severely, and for one swift, single moment his hardened years slipped away and he was filled with a sense of something resembling guilt for what he was to do.  
  
His rational mind - something that had disappeared a long time ago now - struggled to be heard, but the voice of vengeance was much louder and forceful, and it did not desist.  
  
The moment passed.  
  
The young woman who lay even now bound and unconscious in the room directly below him, slumped over the hard concrete floor, was another thing he neglected to feel culpability for. She was yet another pawn in his plan, a small insignificant figure in this game, this game of cat and mouse that would draw to a close with none of them able to anticipate the true extent to his victory.  
  
They thought he was *their* pawn, Wolfram and Hart, they thought he belonged to their pitiful, meaningless plans.  
  
Fools.  
  
But time would make them see. Because for now, now he needed them to believe that, he needed them to believe they were the ones in charge.  
  
They would see.  
  
But not until it was much too late.  
  
He descended the stairs briskly, the large, once stately interior of the building around him now dust-ridden and crumbling, and he turned towards the door that held his prisoner, guarded by a stern looking vampire. Wesley's shrewd gaze noted he was armed almost immediately.  
  
Wolfram and Hart may have hated the vampire population, but they weren't entirely opposed to using them in instances such as this.  
  
As he turned to command the guard stand down, his way was abruptly blocked by the slender, calculating figure of Liliah Morgan.  
  
Her icy brown eyes fixed him in place, and the cruel smirk that seemed to be forever constantly on her mouth tugged at her lips.  
  
Wesley met her gaze square on with his dull grey eyes.  
  
"Lilah", he pronounced her name dryly, though he was sure she could already sense his ever-increasing desire to get out of her company.  
  
He was sure she had that effect on a lot of people.  
  
"Wes", she responded acridly. She gestured to the doorway behind them in a careless fashion. "Little sis isn't what you'd call conscious right now".  
  
Wesley sighed tiredly. "I thought we made the agreement I was going to take care of this particular undertaking."  
  
Lilah puckered her lips unflappably. "Yes, you came to that conclusion, anyway. I suppose it has that ring of irony attached to it, doesn't it? The sister of the slayer you swore to protect, locked away by your own hand to cause mass destruction to the world. Yep, definitely sounds like irony to me. Oh, and the part where you temporarily use Angel's old hotel as her holding cell. That's gotta grate, if he ever finds out about it."  
  
"Funny how much I seem to care".  
  
Lilah smiled, but it was really more of a grimace, and she slapped him none- too-gently on the chest. "I'll leave you to your duties, I suppose. You're getting good at the black-mask routine. Don't be too harsh on her though. We want to get her to Sunnydale in one piece, remember?"  
  
Wesley sneered. "But of course".  
  
Not that it would much matter in the grand scheme of things what happened to Dawn Summers. Her sister was the one who mattered. Dawn was merely the means they used to get to her.  
  
The pretty brunette Summers glared up at him with narrowed, hard eyes that reflected something akin to the hatred he could feel in himself, as he entered the old hotel room, all to familiar to him inside.  
  
Fred's room.  
  
He didn't really know why he had chosen it, as it he considered it now. It seemed oddly fitting in his mind, yet another act of reprisal directly targeted at his old friends, though he doubted they would appreciate it.  
  
"So you're awake after all", he murmured flatly.  
  
She didn't respond, but he hadn't really expected her to.  
  
The room reminded him of his cell with its stark coldness as he stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind him, eyes fixating on the delicate features of the young woman on the floor.  
  
She seethed back.  
  
"If this is something to do with my sister, you can forget it right now, you prick. I don't know anything about her."  
  
Wesley's expression didn't change. He towered over her and he saw a movement of uncertainty flicker behind her eyes. So she was afraid of him. Good. That made things easier.  
  
"It's not about what you know", he told her impassively. "This is about what you are worth to her. Despite what you might think, it's still a great deal." His mouth twitched just slightly. "Luckily for me."  
  
Dawn's lips curled away in distaste. Her bonded arms were propped up on her upraised knees, and she shifted from the pain of the rope cutting into her soft flesh. Her heart was thundering impossibly loudly in her chest, and she could feel the sweat rising on her palms.  
  
But she'd be damned before she let this bastard know any of that.  
  
"You're really that sure that she'll come for me?" she spat hatefully.  
  
She tried to hold onto it, but he could see her bogus outward attitude beginning to melt away.  
  
Wesley only shook his head, with a dim, certain smile.  
  
"Oh, I think I can count on it".  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
"Will, what are you doing?"  
  
Willow glanced up at the tired, weary face of Xander Harris as he crossed the threshold into their temporary room.  
  
He looked so much older these past few days - since Buffy's return. Something about Buffy had always affected him that way - matured him, made him more responsible. Whether or not it was the fact she that had brought big scary demons into their lives or not, Buffy changed him, and for that the slayer had gained respect from Willow that had nothing to do with her ability to wail on a vamp and make with the smart-assed punning at the same time.  
  
The redhead shifted from her cross-legged position on the carpeted floor. "Well, magic, Xand", she told him dryly.  
  
Xander looked adorably frustrated. He had a lot of different faces she liked, though happy-face was by far his best look. And why was it that over the past few years she had begun to notice irrelevant little details like that about him?  
  
Okay, focus here, Rosenburg.  
  
"Yes, I see that", Xander responded tightly. He was eyeing her warily, and something stung inside her.  
  
Does he still not trust me to harness the power, even after all this time?  
  
"But why? You said yourself that you can't locate Wesley because the barrier spell around this place makes your spells go wonky".  
  
Willow straightened, drawing in a deep sigh. "Right. I said that. Which is why I'm not doing a locator's spell. It's. something else. For. Angel".  
  
Xander managed to look even more perplexed than he had before. "Huh?"  
  
They both knew Angel was human, despite Buffy neglecting to mention it to them, which frosted Willow more than she cared to admit. But she had sensed it the day he came to their door, and after a small inward debate had reported it to Xander, though whether the fact was going to enforce new jealousy in him was moot.  
  
It had become pretty darn obvious there was still something between Buffy and Angel beyond simple history.  
  
Which was why she was doing this spell.  
  
Though she couldn't be certain Xander would see things in the same terminology.  
  
"Downstairs, we discussed going back to. Sunnydale", Willow started hesitantly. "How the only ones in the group who would be able to cross into the town would be Buffy and Faith, being the slayers, Spike as a vampire, and. me, obviously."  
  
Xander nodded carefully. "Right. I get that."  
  
Willow looked down, sifting her hands through the sage she had scattered in a pattern across the floor. "Well. it isn't going to be enough, is it? Wes wants to do this by force, and we so clearly don't have that kind of power among us. Angel. is needed. I'm going to cast a protective glamour around him, allowing him to enter the Sunnydale barrier unharmed."  
  
She went silent, waiting for his reaction.  
  
A funny look crossed Xander's face. "Okay. Forgive me if I'm wrong, but is that the reason you're doing this, or is it just for Buffy's big fat schoolgirl yenning?"  
  
Willow frowned. "Well. maybe. But the point is Spike was right when he said down there that we need all the help we can get. Besides, do you really expect things to go any other way? Buffy. needs Angel. The way." she let the rest of her sentence trail off, unfinished.  
  
Xander got it. "She still loves him".  
  
Willow nodded, mutely. She ran her fingers agitatedly through her hair.  
  
"I don't want you to go".  
  
He said it so suddenly her head jerked up. Her throat burned.  
  
"I. You know I have to".  
  
Xander shrugged. "Okay then. Bobbity up some more of that mojo so I can go too. I can't." His hands fell loosely by his sides as if he couldn't find the words. "I don't want you to go", he finished lamely.  
  
Willow blinked, and rose to her feet. She didn't want to cross the sage and risk the possibility of having to start the spell over, but she couldn't stay where she was.  
  
Her palm fell to rest lightly on his arm, and she stopped only just in front of him. "Hey", she said, forcing her tone to come out light. "Xand. Grown woman, remember? I can take care of myself just fine."  
  
A look crossed his face. "Not always".  
  
She winced painfully, and nodded. "I know", she murmured. "But I won't be alone. I have Buffy, and Angel. and everyone else backing me up. Xander, it's not your responsibility to take care of me. I know you have this vision of yourself as my protector. *our* protector ever since. it happened. But it can't be that way forever. We. this thing we have, can't last forever."  
  
Xander's head whipped up. "What? How can you say that?"  
  
Willow sighed, pulling her hand away, heart clenching. "I just mean. you're my best friend. You'll always be my best friend. you'll always be there. But not. like that. What we have. it isn't going to be the kind of love you want forever. One day. you'll want more".  
  
Xander stared at her for a long time as if he couldn't quite believe what she had just said. "What?" he burst out at last. "When did I ever give the indication that I wanted *anything* more?" he demanded. "Willow, what we have is something I would trade my left *arm* to keep. I never wanted anything else", he muttered quietly.  
  
Willow stared up at him. "Not Anya?" she challenged softly. "I know you still loved her, when we left that night. You were. so quiet after that, for so long. After." Tears sparked behind her eyes. "After I was raped was the moment you came back to me. It was like you let Anya go, but I know you never did. You just settled for what you could have with Dani. and with me."  
  
Xander took a step back as though she had physically slapped him.  
  
"No", he said bluntly. "No, you don't get to say that to me. I *never* settled for you. Will. remember the day we met? It was the first day of kindergarten, and you didn't know any of the other kids." A faraway smile drifted over his face. "I just had my first introduction the bottom of a toilet seat by Larry, and I found you sitting by yourself in the playground, under the slide."  
  
His palm rose to rest gently against her cheek. "You know what changed that day? For the first time in my life. Suddenly I got to feel like I belonged to something. I had a real family."  
  
He closed his eyes. "I miss Anya. Every day. But. she was never a part of me like you are. That night Dru and Angel's lackeys put you in a coma? That was the day I realised I loved you."  
  
He smiled gently, and he held out his arms. "No matter what you try, or say, you're stuck with me. I'll always be here, and I'll never want anything more, because I've got all I want right here".  
  
Willow felt a tear streak down her face as he pressed a soft, tender kiss to her forehead.  
  
"Okay?" he whispered into her ear.  
  
Willow nodded, and a sob escaped her throat as she flung her arms around him, clinging to his firm, familiar presence and burying her face into the warm crook of his neck.  
  
"Okay", she choked, nodding her head frantically to let him know she didn't doubt him. How could she ever doubt him?  
  
Xander felt his own chest tighten as he allowed her the fleeting moment of comfort. Because it comforted him too. To know she was there. Willow was always his comfort, his solace. When he was a kid she had been his escape from the other scary parts of his life - his parents drunken fights and harsh words. And again when he was older, when demons and vampires and darkness became such a big part of his reality, Willow became his night- light, his sun in the darkness.  
  
Only now she couldn't reassure and comfort him, she couldn't make reality go away. Because she was about to disappear into it - and there was no way to be sure she was coming back.  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
Buffy tapped her fingers against her knee, to a tune only she could hear, struggling to appear outwardly relaxed.  
  
Spike's eyes strayed on her across the room, noting her agitation, her distance from him. Clearly she wasn't too concerned with him deciding to up and escape, because she knew as well as he did that he could be out the door before she had the chance to move.  
  
Buffy had taken up Spike-sitting an hour ago, out of guilt more than anything else, for leaving Faith alone with him for so long. Only now she could feel herself starting to regret it.  
  
"You know, I won't bite, luv", he drawled, stretching lazily in his chair. Least they hadn't tied him up like Angel had wanted.  
  
Buffy tilted an eyebrow. "Really?" she responded, voice sour. "I could have sworn you were calling yourself 'vampire' these days."  
  
He rolled his eyes. "You know, if we could get past this epic 'Spike's evil, so gear up with the old and tired insults trip', that'd be grand".  
  
Something flashed behind her eyes.  
  
"Oh, we've suddenly decided we rate that kind of treatment, do we?" she snapped fiercely. "Maybe you could have put that on your list of things to do right above 'killing innocent people'?"  
  
He pursed his lips. Did he ever remember the bird to be this damn annoying? "All right, so I've made some mistakes since the invasion".  
  
Buffy snorted at his use of the word 'few'. Spike continued to glare at her.  
  
"Not like I'm alone in that department", he defended. "Since when did I hear an apology along the lines of 'oh, sorry I left you all to get snacked on, and trolloped off someplace for some quality alone-time and moping.' Taking a leaf out of Angel's songbook, are we? Guilt and brood until the day's done, but waste a few dozen years until you get up off your arse and actually do something about it."  
  
His hand shot up, and he feigned sudden realisation.  
  
"Oh, but that's right. Now you're fucking the bastard, you figured you'd filled your guilt-trip quota and deserve a little happiness while the rest of the world suffers back down at ground zero. Gotta hand it to you slayer, I didn't think someone toffee-nosed as you could travel that low enough down, but I guess you proved me wrong, didn't you?"  
  
Buffy moved so fast he barely saw it, and then she had her fist tangled in his shirtfront and him out of his chair, back slammed roughly against the wall. He felt her strength course throughout his body as her grip tightened like a vice, and it sent a thrill shoot down his spine.  
  
"Just like old times, isn't it, pet?"  
  
Inside he knew he was goading her purposefully, just to let her feel a little of what he was feeling right now. But lurking under the surface somewhere was a tiny spark of shame, and he struggled to ignore it.  
  
"I know what you're doing!" she spat into his face. "And you know what?" She released him, and he dropped back against the kitchen cabinets. "It makes you even more pathetic."  
  
He fixed his blue eyes on hers coldly. "Takes one to know one, I suppose".  
  
"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?"  
  
"It means that you really think what you have with Angel will last, you stupid bint?" he burst out intensely. He forced his next words to be calm, but he could feel the heat rising in his chest. "He knew it before, he ended it. What makes you think anything has changed, apart from the fact that you can shag as much as you soddin' please, and not have to worry about bloody Angelus popping up in the middle?  
  
"Things *haven't* changed", he said, emphasising his words heavily. "The things you've done. the person you've become. I know that person. Think he does? Think Peaches can see past that innocent little girl he fell in love with?"  
  
He stared at the girl he still bloody loved - after everything - he was still fucking besotted with her and she would never love him back, not like she did Angel. And he almost regretted what he had just said to her by the look that flashed across her face.  
  
He knew then she had had the same thoughts herself, the same doubts and he wanted to tell her that he had just made them up, just said them to hurt her, cut deep into her soul like she had done to him.  
  
But he couldn't.  
  
For the rest of his life he would wonder what she had been about to say in response, as her words were interrupted by the front door slamming, and Faith's wayward, curvy figure slinking into the room.  
  
She jingled the keys in her hand pointedly. "Got the car", she reported, dark gaze flitting between them in puzzlement.  
  
Buffy nodded, eyes unwavering from Spike's face. "Okay."  
  
Faith frowned. The woman wasn't stupid. "Uh, want me to go get Angel and Red then?"  
  
Buffy shook her head. "No. I can do it."  
  
She disappeared a moment later, leaving a broken looking Spike and a perplexed looking Faith in her wake.  
  
"Okay", Faith muttered. "What the hell was that?"  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
The recent rain had made the road-surface cold and slick, and Faith shifted impatiently, leg cramping and her insides buzzing for action as she tapped her craftily made double-pointed stake impatiently against her thigh.  
  
Buffy was quiet and subdued beside her, head bowed down as her eyes focused firmly on the ground. She had been like that since they left the apartment, and they had been waiting in this spot for almost half-an-hour now.  
  
Buffy had had no apparent difficulty getting into Los Angeles, but getting out again, and with the addition of four other people and a conspicuous as hell Chrysler, was going to be a challenge. So they had to play it a little differently. Buffy and Faith served as the distraction, while Angel, Willow and Spike got the car through the gates. Well, that was the plan in theory, anyway. It was clear there were going to be a lot more obstacles along the way.  
  
Faith sighed heavily, leaning her weight against the pile of shipping crates that concealed them carefully behind.  
  
"Okay", she hissed at last, unable to tolerate the long stretches of tapered silence any longer. "Spill it, Summers. Worry over little sis isn't the only thing driving you here. What's the sitch?"  
  
When Buffy still failed to speak up, she decided to try an even blunter tact than before. "What did Spike say to you?"  
  
Buffy frowned, eyes lifting in the first time in at least twenty minutes. "What?"  
  
Faith made a sound of exasperation. "Tick tock. We don't have a lotta time to make with the fruitless denial right now. That was some *hyper*tension back there, B, and even I could sense something was funky. What happened?"  
  
Buffy frowned, shrugging her shoulders reticently. "I just. He said that. that Angel and I could never work out", she muttered. "That things stand just like they did before."  
  
Faith frowned. "What, and you believed him? Of course things are different. You'd have to be deficient, or. *Spike*, to figure otherwise."  
  
Buffy gave a small, broken smile. "What if he's right?" she whispered. "Everything that happened before. it just seemed destined that Angel and I not be together. Maybe. it just isn't meant to be".  
  
"You're trippin', girlfriend", Faith said tiredly. "How many excuses are you gonna give before you let yourself have this?"  
  
Buffy's frown deepened at this unusually perceptive remark.  
  
"You need to let go of the past", Faith continued. "Believe me, I know that more than anyone. You know all this already, you don't need me repeating it." A wicked smile tugged at her lips. "You know all this if what went down last night is any clue".  
  
Buffy's stared at her. "What!"  
  
Faith smirked. "Like I tell ya. Walls are thin. Apparently the ceiling is too".  
  
Buffy opened her mouth, but Faith waved her off. "Relax, okay. It was only Blondie and me down there, and unless he wants his face smashed in, he ain't mentioning it to no one. Got it?"  
  
Buffy nodded, beyond grateful she had found friendship in this woman who knew so much more than what she let on.  
  
"Got it".  
  
The two lapsed into comfortable silence, but it wasn't for long.  
  
Faith's dark eyes narrowed, and she leant over further to see beyond their hideaway, squinting into the darkness.  
  
"Guards", she muttered under her breath, glancing at Buffy in the corner of her eye. "Sentries, probably. Three of 'em. You ready to rock and roll?"  
  
Buffy nodded. "Let's do it".  
  
The two slayers moved forward like the shadows themselves, mimicking each other's movements and moving with the grace and skill of the beings they hunted.  
  
"Heads up!" Faith cried, and two of the three vampires whirled at the interruption into their nightly routine in surprise.  
  
Faith immediately flew into a high kick, sending the closest vampire's head back with a loud crack. She grunted in satisfaction, ducking a few pitiful blows before jabbing her stake into his chest with a drive that penetrated his heart easily.  
  
The dust settled across the vampire behind him, who lunged on her in rage, but soon found himself struggling to keep his sluggish brain focused on her as she punched and kicked him with a speed he had no hope to match.  
  
Buffy dealt with her own vampire in a similar manner, taking him out with an ease that she wouldn't have believed in her first years of training. But the fact that these vampires were pitifully under trained was going to help along their intentions immensely, and she didn't pause to dwell on the thoughts.  
  
Three vampires taken, Buffy and Faith swept forward through the night, headed intently toward the gate which both knew was guarded heavily.  
  
They came to a halt at a corner, and both took turns peering around to determine their next move.  
  
Faith clenched her fist tightly in the other. "I say we take them all", she said confidently. Buffy hesitated, and then nodded. "Okay. You see the others?"  
  
Faith glanced around, shaking her head. "No".  
  
"Then we have to assume they're nearby."  
  
"Good enough for me".  
  
Without waiting for Buffy to consider changing her mind, Faith stuck her fingers in her teeth, and gave a long, shrill whistle.  
  
She grinned, the whites of her teeth shining through the darkness. "Just wait for 'em to roll in".  
  
Not a moment later two vampire guards strode cautiously over to their position. It was just too easy sometimes, Faith thought, but not with a measure of guilt.  
  
"Hey boys", she called sweetly. The vampires' heads instantly flew in their direction. She blew them a kiss. "Catch us if you can".  
  
The vampires lunged at them as a collective unit, hissing inhumanly as they descended upon them.  
  
Faith lunged for them, and she could feel the sweep of air as Buffy followed her lead. It felt good to be in the lead for once. Faith dodged a blow from a redheaded female vamp, and jabbed out her fist, connecting with the vamp's solar plexus. The vampire hissed through her teeth, and thrust her foot forward in a vicious sidekick, catching Faith soundly in the gut.  
  
Faith staggered, shoulder slamming into the wall, and changed tactics, spinning into a roundhouse kick that landed vampgirl in the head. Her grin grew wide as she drew out her stake, and rammed it into her heart.  
  
"Faith!"  
  
Buffy's voice came as a warning moments before she was dealt a blow in the head. It caught her off guard, and Faith stumbled again, unprepared for this sudden offensive and copping a hard ran of blows to her body.  
  
Buffy was also having difficultly. If the vampires were amateur in their experience, their numbers more than a little made up for it.  
  
She was assaulted by vampires on every side of her body, and struggled to give out as good as she got. Vampires tugged at her hair and her clothes, and she let out a howl, before leaping high into the air. She soared over their heads, buying herself a moment or two. She glanced over and saw Faith was in the midst of her own affray, and frantically her gaze drifted around.  
  
Something, anything.  
  
Yes!  
  
A fire escape ran not three metres above her head, jutting out from the side of the building nearby. Her eyes darted along it, noting its lack of stability as a soft breeze made it begin to sway.  
  
Buffy Summers felt a real smile light her face.  
  
Too perfect.  
  
She drew in a deep, steadying breath, and sprinted across the open terrain, praying to God there were no sentries in the overhead gate towers that could see her, and were armed.  
  
Her feet pounded heavily on the gravel, and she could feel her heart jerking uncomfortably fast inside her ribcage as she ran with all the speed of the warrior inside of her.  
  
She went with the momentum, and launched herself head-on up the side of the wall. She could see the vampires already beginning to pursue her, and hopefully they were so stupid, they would never realise what she was up to until it was too late.  
  
There was no point wasting time in case they did.  
  
The vampires were below her now, and it would only be a moment before they were upon her.  
  
Her fingers latched on to the base of the ladder, sharp rusty metal cutting into her skin. She ground down on her teeth, and heaved herself up. The ladder had already begun to screech.  
  
With one, hard jerk, using all of her slayer strength, the ladder wrenched from its casings. Buffy dodged through the air to the side, flipping swiftly through the air, and the ladder fell behind her. A loose wire caught at her shirt, and Buffy yelped as it tore into her flesh, going deep.  
  
She landed in a roll on the hard concrete, skidding painfully across it and finally coming to a stop when she thudded into a nearby alley wall.  
  
Cries of pain that were anything but human echoed into the night air, as the vampires beneath were crushed by the weight of the fire escape.  
  
It probably wouldn't be enough to kill any of them, but it had cut down their numbers severely. Buffy's head rose up and she slowly staggered to her feel, noting the dwindle in their attack.  
  
Faith was faring quite well, and facing off against the last few vampires, dividing her attention equally between them. But Buffy could already see the movement under the ladder, and the shouts from above as sentries were put on alert.  
  
And as if on cue the steady roar of an engine filled the air, before a heavy black Chrysler appeared from the night, squealing to a jerky stop on the pavement a few yards from where she stood. She could barely glimpse her friends through the tinted glass but she knew it was them.  
  
"B!" Faith shouted.  
  
Buffy nodded, clutching at her throbbing wound as she stumbled towards the car. They only had a minute to get through the gates, only a minute before more vamps arrived and cut off their way. And she wasn't willing to contemplate what would happen to them if they were caught.  
  
And then suddenly, something hard and cold impacted the side of her head, and Buffy found herself meeting the earth head-on, the taste of copper blood filling her mouth, the dirt from the earth filling her nostrils.  
  
"Buffy!" Faith yelled again, voice in panic, but then there were more grunts and slaps, and Buffy knew she was trapped in another fight.  
  
Buffy struggled to lift her head, when another blow met the side of her body. She cried out, barely identifying it was the toe of somebody's boot, driving hard into her ribs.  
  
Hot, putrid breath fell over her ear, and she heard the cold raspy voice as it spoke to her. "Might want to rethink that nasty trick now, hey sweetheart".  
  
Buffy turned, heartbeat thundering, to see the fanged face of one of the guards as he leered into her face. She drew up a fist, scarcely connecting with his cheek, and the vampire grunted.  
  
"You'll pay for that, bitch".  
  
"No, I think she's more of a giver".  
  
The hard, dangerous voice came from above, before the scattered remains of the vampire's dust fell across Buffy's fallen form.  
  
Buffy blinked up into the aggressive narrowed eyes of her lover, and felt nothing but relief.  
  
Most people would be intimidated by the dangerous, violent expression currently across his face, but as soon as his gaze fell on her his expression softened.  
  
"C'mon, love", he murmured.  
  
Angel's hand fell to her shoulders, and he lifted her to her feet, so her body weight was supported against him.  
  
Buffy could already feel her joints healing and the dizziness in her head begin to fade, but she allowed him to lead her to the car, which had Spike waiting tersely behind the wheel. Faith was spread across the backseat, panting heavily, face blood streaked, and Spike made himself get in one fleeting reassuring look at Buffy's face before he stepped on it.  
  
He ran the vehicle straight at the closed gates.  
  
They crashed through, sparks flying and everyone wrenched unceremoniously forward. Then they were cruising along the highway with the car in relatively good shape, and Faith swore from the back.  
  
"That was freakin' AWESOME!"  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
TBC 


	10. Into the Darkness

~*~*~*~*  
  
You've got no idea what it's like on the other side. Where nothing is in control, nothing makes sense. There's just pain, and hate, and nothing you  
do means anything.  
-'Sanctuary'.  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
BROKEN WORLD SERIES -  
  
Part Ten: Into the Darkness  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
*Welcome to Sunnydale.*  
  
The words on the once cheerful green sign now stark and foreboding, seemed to mock Buffy as Spike drew the car down to a slower speed as they approached the barren outer suburbs two hours after leaving Los Angeles.  
  
"Stop here", Willow directed sharply from the back seat.  
  
The five of them gazed through the tinted windows of the Chrysler apprehensively. Buffy shivered.  
  
Willow climbed out of the passenger seat, and reached inside her pocket. The utter emptiness of the town was disturbing. It was too silent. They hadn't encountered one single patrol group since they hit Route 17, and Buffy had always been given the impression entering into Sunnydale was a suicide attempt for anything moving around with a pulse.  
  
No, something was wrong with this picture.  
  
Willow pulled out a flashlight, and juggled it in her palm while removing a small thin canvas bag containing her supplies.  
  
They had all followed her outside, and Buffy knew she wasn't the only one feeling the heat as everyone gazed around the deserted streets, twitching and shuffling nervously though not speaking their feelings aloud.  
  
Angel took the flashlight from Willow's palm as it slipped between her fingers, and she shot him a small grateful smile.  
  
"Okay", she said evenly. "This should show us exactly where the barrier is."  
  
Spike cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah. About that". He gestured to the far- distant horizon beyond the tall, desolate houses up ahead. "Not too long 'til the sun does that peek-o-boo thing. Do we have a money-back guarantee you can get us in there. all parts still firmly attached. before dawn?"  
  
Willow waved an impatient hand, removing a long thin canister from the bag. "Give me a minute, okay Spike?"  
  
"Maybe that's the reason no one's around", Buffy mused quietly, arms chafing against her shoulders in an effort to ward off the sudden chill. "Sun an' all".  
  
"Probably", Faith agreed, but her own dark eyes darted around warily.  
  
Willow drew her hand inside the canister, and produced a handful of glittery, purple dust. Pursing her lips, she placed the bag against her feet, and began to sprinkle the powder over the air in front of her.  
  
The atmosphere suddenly became solid, revealing a thick black wall in the space the dust touched on that shimmered in an out of existence in a flowing, swirling mass.  
  
Willow nodded in satisfaction. "Like I thought", she announced. "It's a glamour spell protecting the outside of the barrier. Making it appear. normally, when in reality."  
  
".There's no way to know what's actually on the other side?" Angel finished disbelievingly.  
  
Willow sighed. "Nope."  
  
"That would explain the complete lack of activity around here", Buffy said irritably. "There could be a whole stack of vampires just waiting to snack on us on the other side".  
  
Spike shrugged. "Well, you said anything's supernatural can just duck straight on through, right Red?"  
  
"That's right".  
  
He grinned, and gave them a wide, encompassing salute. "See you later then".  
  
Before anyone could react, the vampire stepped forward, and was devoured by the thick swirling black substance. Buffy's hand shot after him into the inky blackness, and her fingers latched onto something on the other side before she was sucked suddenly through as well.  
  
The sensation was like being trapped inside a tar pit, and then she was released from the hold just as quickly and burst through on the opposite side. She drew in a shaky breath, unprepared for the sudden experience.  
  
"Spike!" she exploded at him. She realised he hadn't made an effort to move, and slammed roughly into his back. "Ow. what the hell is.?"  
  
Her mouth flew open. "Oh my God".  
  
If the illusion the vampires had planted on the other side of the barrier had been bad, what she was confronted with now chilled her to the bone.  
  
The streets of her hometown were ravaged beyond salvaging, houses trashed, glass and debris littering the once pristine front yards. Boards had been put up over the windows, perhaps in the early stages of the war when Sunnydale had yet to be fully occupied, but the job had been done hastily and she could see it had been abandoned long ago.  
  
The once perfectly trimmed lawns were dead, the gardens overgrown, and some even partially burnt where the homes that had possessed them had been burnt to the ground and turned into charred out shells.  
  
In fact, everything was dead; the entire town a blackened landscape.  
  
It might have had something to do with the heavy black mist blotting out the night sky; and, ever conveniently, the sun.  
  
"Now *that's* a neat trick", Spike murmured, lips pursing together as he gazed up at the sky in appreciation. "Powerful magic", he noted.  
  
Despite her abject horror of the devastation of her town, she glanced at him sharply. "You've never been back?"  
  
He frowned, and shot her a pointed look. "Never wanted to come back", he said flatly. He shrugged. "And even a vampire society has its rules. Sunnydale's restricted territory, luv".  
  
She was just wondering exactly what this could mean when she felt someone tap her on the shoulder, and gazed around to Faith who had just emerged herself from the barrier, mouth open in incredulity.  
  
"Holy shit."  
  
"Where's Angel and Willow?" Buffy asked distractedly.  
  
Faith cocked a thumb over her shoulder. "Rosenberg's workin' her last minute mojo", she explained, still looking slightly numb at the scene around them. As numb as someone like Faith could look, anyway. "Making sure Angel gets through bangers and mash-less, all that."  
  
"Well, they better hurry", Spike said suddenly, eyes focused on the littered roadway ahead. "Because we've got company".  
  
The two slayers followed his gaze.  
  
A group of vampires were coasting slowly towards them in a dark blue Volvo, ominously silent in their approach. They hadn't spotted the three dark figures, a foot inside the vampire territory, but it wouldn't be long.  
  
"The weapons", Buffy realised, inwardly cursing her own stupidity. "They're in the trunk".  
  
Faith swore. "Great. What's the score? We gotta jam before they see us-"  
  
"They've seen us", Spike said abruptly.  
  
The car skidded to a halt, and shouts echoed around the barren streets while car doors slammed. The vampires clearly hadn't been expecting any early morning visitors, but unlike in Los Angeles, these vamps were highly trained and carried artillery obviously just in case this very situation ever arose.  
  
"KILL THEM!" a voice roared above the rest.  
  
"You heard the guy", Buffy muttered under her breath. She had no time to worry what had become of her lover and her best friend as she launched herself at the closest of vampires weaponless.  
  
It took Buffy only a heartbeat to calculate the odds. They were in trouble.  
  
Both feet flew out as she dove into the air, impacting with noses and foreheads and giving out a satisfying crack. She cocked her fist back into a right hook, countering with an elbow thrust, and kicking up her heel. Vampires flew back on all sides, but their advance kept coming, and they were stronger than what she was used to dealing with.  
  
Spike let out a battle cry as he let loose his pent-up frustrations on the unlucky vampires, thrusting out with kicks and punches that were savage in their intent. He ducked blows and sprinted across the road surface with his coat flapping, before snapping off a branch from a nearby bush that was long dead without the sunlight to keep it thriving.  
  
He had always wondered why talk about Sunnydale had remained so secretive in the past, and now he understood.  
  
He plunged the makeshift stake into a vampire's heart, and whirled to check on the girls' progress.  
  
Buffy was managing quite well on her own, but Faith looked to be in a spot of trouble. Contemplating whether or not to leave the slayer be and watch the bird struggle, finally he decided on self-preservation and ran forward.  
  
A club cracked across Faith's back, and she cried out before staggering to her knees. A vampire stood over her, face expressionless, and drew his fist into her face.  
  
Blood spurted across her lip, and Faith shot out a leg, kicking him to the ground. Another vampire took hold of her arm, and drove a vicious kick into her spine.  
  
Then its eyes went wide and his lips dropped open, and his eyes darted down to the sharp piece of wood protruding through his chest before he disappeared in a cloud of dust.  
  
Spike offered Faith a hand up, and she accepted it.  
  
"No need to thank me for the save", he said sardonically. Faith ignored him.  
  
"Where the hell are -"  
  
Before she could even finish her sentence, bluish electricity shot past her face, and met with its target. Several vampires that had been on Buffy screamed in anguish as they caught alight, and hopped around frantically, rolling in the grass.  
  
Willow lowered her hands to her sides, and gazed around sharply at her friends with Angel by her side.  
  
"Is everyone all right?"  
  
Spike gazed around, surprised. They had taken out all the vamps in record timing.  
  
"Swell", Faith zinged, rubbing at her back.  
  
Buffy ducked her head inside the vampires' abandoned vehicle, and withdrew a long, hand-held crossbow from the floor of the passenger seat.  
  
"I am now".  
  
She gazed around at what had become of Sunnydale, and felt some of that old authority come rushing back into her veins. She was in her own territory now, despite what the vampires wanted to believe. This was her town.  
  
And she was getting it back.  
  
"We need to split up", she decided abruptly. "Two teams. It's not going to take the vampires long to trace this."  
  
She nodded to the blonde vampire. "Spike, take Willow and Faith and check your old haunts, anywhere we might gain information that wouldn't think suspiciously of you turning up in town. Angel and I will hide the car, then go to my house; see what we can turn up. We all need to meet back at Xander's apartment, okay?"  
  
She eyed them carefully. "If anyone gets caught, the others are still here to do what we came for."  
  
She cocked the crossbow.  
  
"No matter what happens, I want Dawn out of this alive."  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
God I would kill for a hot shower.  
  
The absurd thought entered Dawn's mind as the war wagon rolled along, and she rocked unsteadily in the back, where her right arm was handcuffed to the door.  
  
Of course any kind of shower was pretty much wishful thinking these days, where running water was a lost luxury, a fact all too demonstrated by her stoic, monosyllabic companions.  
  
Wesley remained to be seen since their brief but alarming encounter back at that old building, and she was actually starting to wish for his company than the stony, emotionless guards she was forced to accompany now. It was nearly two hours ago they had embarked on this secret journey to some hidden location, and the large armoured van was without windows, so she couldn't look out to see where it was they were headed.  
  
She would have remained clueless if she hadn't caught smidgens of conversation drift from the front seat.  
  
". Ms. Morgan said to turn left at Route 17, and pass by the old drive-inn to get into town", one gruff voice instructed.  
  
"What about the barrier? The kid isn't exactly anything special".  
  
"She said it was taken care of. I just hope if we pass through she doesn't blow us all up or something."  
  
Dawn tensed, and realisation hit her. Sunnydale. They were taking her to freaking Sunnydale.  
  
Now not only was she being the target of yet another of her sister's demonic foes, she was being sucked right back into the life she had sworn to herself she would turn her back on at all costs.  
  
Great.  
  
Ten minutes later the van shuddered to a halt, and the vampire sitting across from her leaned over for only a moment to loosen her bindings. The doors to the back cabin screeched as they pulled open, and Dawn was shoved unceremoniously out into the darkness.  
  
The night air was cold and struck her like a thousand knives after the stifling interior of the van. One hefty vampire grabbed her easily around the upper arm, and dragged her across the car park.  
  
She struggled to recognise her surroundings, but Sunnydale was like a foreign landscape to her now, and anything but the home she had known for seven years of her life. The car park didn't look at all familiar, though the building she was being pulled towards on stumbling heels looked like it had once been a conservative, strict government structure.  
  
It struck her like a blow. It was City Hall.  
  
God. The building was charred on the outside, and faded and grey. The atrium outside that had once been blooming with the pride and joy of the town's stately officials was overgrown and deadened, and the foliage clung over the railing to the front doorway and gave it a distinctly Dracula's castle-like ambience. Of course she had never seen Dracula's castle, but she had to assume that was what it had looked like.  
  
At that moment Dawn knew for sure she never wanted to find out what the rest of the town looked like. But she might have to. Despite Wesley's words, she wasn't as thoroughly convinced that Buffy would come for her, and she wasn't about to wait around until she did.  
  
She had never been inside City Hall, but the front lobby was crumbling and badly in need of structural repairs. The vampire's grip on her arm tightened forcefully, and he gave a short nod to the armed vampire standing guard by the old administration's desk before turning down a darkened corridor.  
  
Dawn stumbled blindly beside him, unwilling to trust in his supernatural sight to see her through the darkness unscathed. At last they reached an office door at the end of the hall, and he shoved her inside, barely pausing to eye her over with distaste.  
  
"Price'll be along in a few hours. Don't go trying anything, princess. You're bringing the slayer into our territory now, and not many vamps are gonna like you for it".  
  
His breath struck her face, and she took a step back, face twisting in disgust. Vamp-detail might have been Ivy's thing, but the girl was a slut, and that wasn't her deal.  
  
She wasn't like her sister.  
  
He chuckled without humour, and started back out the door. "Don't worry, sugar. I like my girls cold".  
  
He slammed the door behind him, and the plasterboard rattled. Dawn was overcome with an uncontrollable shiver. She waited five whole minutes before she was sure there were no sounds indicating anything nearby, and then scuttled across the room and to the window. It was boarded up, and after a few futile attempts she broke at least half of her fingernails trying to wedge it off, but it was secured tight. After checking any other possible route of escape, Dawn was forced to face the facts. She was sealed in tight.  
  
She let out a howl of frustration, and sagged into a ball under the window, burying her face in her hands. Was this it? Was this all her life was going to be, an end no one would notice, an end no one would miss? The year she turned fourteen and discovered she was something more powerful that the slayer itself seemed like so long ago now, nothing but a distant dream.  
  
Spike, in his usual way, had been right. She was nothing, and no one would care if she dropped dead of heart failure.  
  
And that just gave her an idea.  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
"Where the hell are you taking us, Blondie?"  
  
Faith's suspicious voice drifted up to Spike, and he struggled to ignore it as he continued to stalk down the small suburban street towards his destination. It gave him a small sliver of satisfaction to hear the bitch and Red scramble on the footpath to keep up, and that grin lasted on his face a full thirty seconds before Faith's grip on his arm brought him abruptly to a halt.  
  
"Hey! I find you're playing us, and there's gonna be a whoopin'".  
  
Spike sneered, eyeing her over in unabashed distaste. "Count on it".  
  
"Um, okay, people", Willow cut in, stepping up to both of them with a look of immense annoyance clouding her face. "Can we maybe save the bout of ass kicking entertainment 'til later? Like when we're not actively struggling to save a world here? Again."  
  
A sneer tugged at Faith's face, but she shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "Sure, Sabrina. Whatever has your yennin'".  
  
"I'll take that as a agreement", Willow responded acridly. She was still peeved at Buffy for leaving her alone with the bickersons. If they didn't get to wherever they were going soon, she was tempted to just let them go at an all-and-out smackdown and be done with it. At least then she'd have one less to annoy the crap out of her.  
  
Spike turned from them both, not in the least un-annoyed himself, particularly with the fact that as they spoke Buffy and Angel were enjoying some quality 'alone time'. He sauntered down the street, eyes sweeping the darkened landscape before cutting a sharp corner through someone's backyard. It was a trip he'd made many a time before, at least pre-chip and pre-Scooby. He got the impression though the town was an exclusive vamp survivor island, his old mate Gerry might still be in the neighbourhood, lying as low as he ever did.  
  
Without waiting to see if Willow and Faith were following, he launched himself over the yard's back fence. The house was still there, darkened and seemingly empty. Spike started quietly across the yellowing lawn, and his fingers latched silently around the back door handle.  
  
The door made an impossibly loud groaning as it opened, and his vampiric senses immediately adjusted to the gloom. Something brushed against his back, and he glanced around in time to see Faith slip into the house beside him.  
  
He motioned his head forward and to the left, and the brunette slayer nodded and started gracefully ahead. Spike paused only a moment to admire her cat-like fluency, and her feminine curves as she twisted around the corner, which he knew from memory led to the second floor staircase. But Gerry was the type to stick to routine, and a vampire invasion and permanent midnight weren't factors about to dissuade him from his nightly whisky in the basement. Spike knew that was where he'd be.  
  
He felt Willow come to a halt at his side, and inwardly sighed, knowing he wasn't going to shake her. He started straight for the basement door, and sure enough, it was half open, and the sounds of what was presumedly Gerry shuffling around in his cabinet met Spike's ears. Briefly allowing himself a moment to praise his good instincts, Spike's hand slid across the handrail as he moved soundlessly down the stairs.  
  
"Gerry, mate. Long time no see".  
  
His chubby fingers were fastened around the candleholder before he raised it to the blonde vampire's face.  
  
"*Spike*?"  
  
Spike waved the flame irritably away from his face. "Oi! Watch it mate, you're singeing my eyebrows."  
  
"Spike?" Gerry repeated in disbelief. "What the *hell* are you doing in town? Are you looking to sign your own death warrant, because I think you just went about doing the honours."  
  
Spike sighed irritably. "Old business. Reason I'm 'ere, actually".  
  
Gerry turned his scrutiny to Willow, just as Faith's voice echoed down the stairwell. "Hey. There's a killer collection of porn in one of the bedrooms, but nothing live. I think you've once again wasted our time-" she trailed off as she came into view. "What the fuck?"  
  
Gerry glared at Spike, and his eyes flashed red. "You brought a slayer with you, man?"  
  
Spike glowered at Faith. "Lovely. Now you've given him the big old scaredy".  
  
"I'm not scared", Gerry snapped. "You have that slayer fetish, but they don't like *my* kind very much".  
  
Willow frowned. "Um, maybe stupid question. But how did someone like you survive this long in Sunnydale? Vampires aren't the fondest of demons these days. Even. whatever demon you are."  
  
Gerry rolled his eyes, and took a step against the wall. Almost immediately, he melted into it, and there was no apparent sign he was there at all. He detached himself again, and slumped onto a ratty armchair in the corner of the room. "Happy? Garuda demon, sweetheart, that's the preferred term. We can blend into any surroundings, and stay that way for hours, days if we have to".  
  
Faith grinned wickedly. "What, like a chameleon?"  
  
Gerry glared. "Fine, like a chameleon, if that will help you understand easier. Now maybe you can tell me what the hell you want before you give me away. I haven't survived here six long years only to have some British vampire, his slayer playtoy and their redhead side vixen to get me caught".  
  
"Hey!" both girls cried indignantly.  
  
Spike snorted. "Look 'ere, Gerry", he said impatiently. "I'm calling in a favour. I want to know where vamp central HQ is these days".  
  
Gerry popped open his bottle of whiskey. "Why should I tell you?"  
  
Spike rolled his eyes. "Need we be reminding of my lady friend over here", he said pointedly.  
  
Faith pursed her lips, but remained silent.  
  
Gerry's eyes darted towards her nervously. "Fine. Jeez, that blonde slayer was enough. You know I lost my bar tab at Willy's because of that chick?" He scoffed. "Slayers. Who needs 'em?"  
  
He took a swig. "The place you're looking for is City Hall, man. That's where most of the vamps are packing. But there's the old high school. Yeah, they got some scary shit on that side of town. I were you, I'd stay the hell away".  
  
Willow chewed her lip. "Guess it fits", she mused unhappily.  
  
Faith cocked her head at the weaselly Garuda demon. "Anythin' else chameleon boy has to let fly?" she said warily.  
  
Spike stepped towards Gerry. "Well?" he prompted warningly.  
  
Gerry shrugged. "Just trust me when I say that high school is *bad* news. Get the feeling things are gettin' restless over there, know what I mean? They got torture chambers and all sorts of shit. You think those vamp prisons they have in the cities are heavy?" He shook his head, and shivered slightly. "Man, you ain't seen nothin'".  
  
Spike turned to Faith and Willow. "Sounds like that might be our place."  
  
Willow nodded anxiously. "Yeah. We should get over to Xander's apartment and meet up with the others. No doubt they're gonna want to check this out".  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
The Summers home was still intact, though Buffy hardly held her surprise. After all that had happened to her in this war, she didn't quite believe the fates could spare her that one mercy.  
  
Still, she wasn't about to complain. She strode in the kitchen door ahead of Angel, eyes peeled for any signs of the unusual. Angel's hand closed gently over her wrist, and she jumped at his sudden appearance at her side. Vampire or not, he could still move with the natural swiftness of a predator, and if he could sneak up on her right now, she figured her focus was a non-issue.  
  
"I don't think there's anyone here", he murmured softly, and she could see his intense scrutiny of her as a car's headlights passed by outside the house.  
  
Buffy sighed, drooping her head slightly. "No", she agreed quietly.  
  
She knew he wanted to ask something else, but she turned from him before he could get the words out. Obviously sensing she was in no mood to be coddled, he settled for slinking quietly behind her, allowing her space, but not enough so that he couldn't reach her side in time if potential danger should arise.  
  
He couldn't believe how perfect something so simple as *being* with her could feel. everything felt so perfect with her. So right. He didn't think he had ever known something so surely in his life as his love for this woman.  
  
His eyes trailed around the darkened living room, wary of the apparent peace. Though there had been no signs of any vampire activity on their trek across the town, he wasn't so eager to believe in their safety. Certainly not when things between them were so well. He wouldn't admit as such, and in his long, previously eternal life he had had no need for childish superstition in his rationally orientated way of thinking, but he was starting to think things were too good to be true.  
  
In all his life he had only ever experienced the sort of warm, enriched contentment he was feeling now twice, and the first time he had reverted to his soulless, abomination of an alter ego, the second his son had been wrenched from his arms by the man he trusted, and the possible escape from his darkened world had suddenly been twisted into something perverse.  
  
He didn't think he could survive if he had to go through it all again.  
  
Buffy disappeared up the flight of stairs, and he allowed her the brief moment alone with her childhood home. His own memories came flooding back as he glanced around. The living room had been looted, and most of Buffy, Dawn and Willow's belongings hadn't endured the years in their owner's absence. A thick sheen of dust covered everything in sight, giving it an appearance of great age.  
  
The front door had somehow been broken in, and at least half of the windows were shattered, covering the floor beneath his feet in an array of brittle glass.  
  
Though he had returned to Sunnydale a few brief times since his departure for Los Angeles, he had never actually returned to Buffy's home since she was in high school, at a time things had been so different between them, so strained and uncomfortable, as if the lie they were living was showing its cracks.  
  
Things had changed so much since then, not just between them, but also in their lives. He realised with sadness that so much had happened in Buffy's life before and after the war that he would never be a part of.  
  
Something glinted on the floor at his feet, and he bent into a crouch to retrieve it, even as he did hearing Buffy's barely perceivable sounds of movement on the floor above.  
  
A frown marred his features as he placed the cool metal object in his hand.  
  
It was a black cigarette lighter.  
  
Not very distinguishable, but you couldn't live with someone and constantly be in their company for a dozen decades without noticing certain things about them. Like what cigarette lighter they used.  
  
So technically he had no reason to be jealous. Buffy had been open with him about the whole Spike affair.. Well, once he got it out of her, anyway. She had told him. She slept with him, they had what vaguely resembled a relationship, though there was something about that she definitely wasn't mentioning.  
  
Xander's reactions to Spike had more to do than a male friend's jealousy, there was something genuinely frightened in him about the blonde vampire's presences among their ranks, which led Angel to believe something he hated to believe about Buffy.. But the fact was the time he had spent with her these past few weeks had only reinforced his beliefs that she had allowed herself to be involved in an abusive relationship. Not only physically but mentally as well.  
  
But if this was indeed the case, then why was it that because Spike had a soul he was suddenly welcomed back into the fold without a question, and damn the potential danger it could cause her and her family? And if the Scooby gang's undeniable familiarity with him was to be taken into consideration, he had been around more than could be considered necessary for the fight against the forces of evil.  
  
Buffy had told him nothing had happened between them after his soul was returned. But why did he find that so very hard to believe?  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
The soft, mildly curious voice of his love interrupted his line of thoughts, and he pulled abruptly up to his feet and whirled to face her. Instinctively, he held the cigarette lighter so it was concealed behind his back.  
  
"Nothing", he said quickly. "Uh, just thought I saw something." He forced his features to read sheepish.  
  
Buffy eyed him for a moment with a strange frown. Then she shrugged. "Okay. Well, the weapons have all been cleared out, surprise surprise. I guess a slayer's stash would probably be pretty useful in a really freaky way. It makes me think they can psychoanalyse me by my weaponry or something".  
  
She held forth a small cross on a silver chain. "I did find this though".  
  
Angel recognised it almost immediately. It was the same necklace he had given her the night they met.  
  
"Vampires probably wouldn't have any use for it", he murmured quietly, eyes intently on hers.  
  
Buffy smiled slightly. "No. I wouldn't think so".  
  
Without a word, she slipped it on around her neck, pulling the clasp free from her hair. Angel felt a mild smile pulling at his lips.  
  
Things were going to be okay between them. What did it matter as long as they were together now?  
  
The past was in the past.  
  
Right?  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
Los Angeles, California  
  
2004 Phase 1 of vampire invasion  
  
Swords, knives, axes. Stakes, crosses, holy water.  
  
All of it was loaded into the back of the truck with deft efficiency, everything from Angel's extensive weapon's cabinet transferred to the vehicle. Things like brass knuckles and antique swords with foreign names, things they had never needed before, but now had suddenly become so vital in this battle for survival. For their freedom.  
  
Wesley dumped a heavy collection of Angel's priceless ancient swords into the back when Fred emerged from the courtyard, staggering from the weight of an impressive array of weaponry. Wesley scurried forward without a thought, quickly retrieving half of her burden and her pretty brown eyes darted up to his face in surprise.  
  
"Thank you", she murmured after a long pause. She averted her eyes again quickly. He stifled a sigh.  
  
"Angel and Charles seem to think this isn't enough", she commented, gesturing vaguely to the growing culmination of artillery.  
  
Wesley ran a hand absently over his thickening stubble. "I'd have to agree with that assessment", he admitted.  
  
Fred bobbed her head tersely. "They went by Charles' old group to see if they had anything we could use. Some reinforcements wouldn't have hurt", she added dryly.  
  
Her curly brunette hair caught the light of the overhead lights when she moved it nervously. It was so silken and smooth, surely it wouldn't hurt if he just reached out and. He closed his weary grey eyes.  
  
Deprived of sleep and he was sure his obsession with her was growing more and more each minute. Being this near her, in the office, every day, able to smell her sweet lavender scented shampoo, tantalizing him.. It was beginning to be unbearable.  
  
"Are you afraid?"  
  
His eyes flew open in surprise at her familiar Texan twang, surprised because she hadn't left as soon as she got the opportunity, instead she had stayed knowing just how dangerous it was, and not because of the countless vampire forces that were gathering as they spoke.  
  
He cleared his throat, voice husky and low. He would be truthful with her, he knew that. Truthful because the brusque exterior he put on was only show and she would know the genuineness of his words.  
  
"Yes".  
  
Fred nodded at his simple, straightforward admission, seemingly satisfied. "Sometimes I think it isn't really happening", she murmured, ducking her chin. "That none of this can be real. Because if it is real and all of this is really happening, then we're all about to walk straight out into a war, and one we could never come back from".  
  
She looked up at him then, and the expression in her eyes was such that she had never allowed herself to direct at him before, but earnest and pure in its meaning.  
  
He couldn't allow himself to believe what he was really glimpsing.  
  
"Wesley", Fred said, voice caressing him, lulling out his innermost feelings and threatening to bring them crashing to the surface. "All of this has made me think. I see Angel, how he's changed now this thing has started; now he knows Buffy might really be gone. He never got to tell her, Wesley, how much he loved her and now they finally have their chance. I don't want things to be that way for us. I want you to know. because if something happens, then at least I.. at least you'll know. And I won't regret anything. I'm tired of regrets."  
  
She took a hesitant step forward and something seized his heart with hope.  
  
"Wesley.. I think I'm in love with you".  
  
Wesley stared at her. She had said it. The words he had been forever in doubt he would ever hear, she had said them, and she had meant it. He clasped his hands by his sides, unable to quite believe it, and he could feel them shaking.  
  
"Gunn?" he murmured at last. He had to know. Even if it hurt, he had to know if there was a real chance.  
  
Fred licked her lips. "I haven't.. I wanted you to be the first to know. It's over. I finished it. We aren't together anymore".  
  
Wesley let go of his last meagre threads of control. He grasped her hand tightly, and seized her by the waist, pulling her tightly into his arms and covering her mouth with his. She answered back with a fierceness he hadn't quite imagined she possessed, and for the first time he allowed himself to believe.  
  
Then something hard connected with his skull, and his face was buried in the pavement.  
  
Wesley rolled onto his back, blinking blindly up at the night sky, struggling to process what had just happened.  
  
Gunn's furious face suddenly towered over him and his expression was a cold mask.  
  
"Some friend you turned out to be".  
  
Wesley scrambled up to his feet, posture slightly unsteady due to the dizziness in his head. He fingered the back of his scalp, and could already feel the hard harsh lump growing from Gunn's assault.  
  
Wesley's gaze drifted to the roughly grasped baseball bat clutched between Gunn's hands and his vision cleared.  
  
"We stopped being anything resembling friends a long time ago".  
  
"Gunn!" Fred exclaimed, eyes wide as she glanced between them. "Wesley! Don't do this, *please*. Are you both crazy?!"  
  
Wesley recognised the primal, intense surge of hatred that welled inside him, only this time he embraced it. The voice of logic, the voice of reason, told him Gunn had every right to be upset, but he was tired of the constant tension, the careful sidestepping and avoidance, the denial for what he truly felt.  
  
He could feel himself readying to stand off against this man who should have been his closest friend, and not *one* thing was going to stand in his way.  
  
Gunn eyes him distastefully. "Should'a known loyalty would never matter to a guy like you".  
  
Wesley sneered. "I don't think you're even aware of the definition of the word".  
  
Wesley drew back his fist, and connected solidly with Gunn's jaw. His head reared back, and his eyes narrowed into slits.  
  
"Oh, you are ASKING for this!"  
  
Wesley glared. "Give me your best shot".  
  
Gunn swung the baseball bat hard, and the ex-watcher ducked, whirling to close his fingers around the long, thick hilt of an antique sword protruding from the back of the trunk. He spun, and held the sword forward into a battle position. Gunn narrowed his eyes.  
  
"Let's get it done".  
  
Wesley brought his sword down, slicing the air. The blade missed Gunn's head by inches as he whizzed to the side, cracking the bat up and bringing it over Wesley's shoulders. Wesley released the sword in surprise, and dropped it noisily to the concrete pavement, clattering onto the drain.  
  
Wesley grunted, launching the few feet separating them at Gunn, fists flying. Gunn also dropped his bat, and countered Wesley blow for blow, moving as fast as a flash of lightening.  
  
The black man dropped to his knees, seeing his opening, seizing Wesley's discarded weapon. With a roar of pain and fury, Gunn drove the sword straight for Wesley's shoulder, beyond sense or rationale.  
  
Then Fred was there. It all happened like a blur. She was there, and the point punched through her chest, directly over her heart, and she collapsed limply on the ground.  
  
Gunn and Wesley stared. And stopped.  
  
"NO!" Gunn screamed, throwing away the blade. He staggered to go to her form, when a vampire appeared in front of him. The demon grinned, showing the whites of its horrifying teeth, fully in its vampire visage. They no longer need to hide it.  
  
"WATCH OUT!" Angel's loud, terror-stricken voice echoed from the Hyperion courtyard moments before dozens of vampires emerged form all angles, launching their surprise attack.  
  
Angel, Cordelia and Connor raced from the hotel interior, brandishing last minute weaponry and giving all they could. Wesley was dimly aware of Lorne as he helped him to his feet, and then he was surrounded by fiends of hell, immersed in a battle he suddenly didn't care if he won or lost.  
  
When the last of the vampires were gone, he raced off into the night, and the darkness swallowed him hole, never to release its iron grip hold.  
  
Angel was breathless as he raced to Gunn's side, and seeing the man's uncharacteristic shaken expression, he halted mid-step.  
  
"Gunn, what's wrong with-" he trailed off, and his mouth flew open. Cordelia let out a howl, dropping beside Fred and covering her face with her hands.  
  
"No! No! No! Oh God, please *no*".  
  
The brunette curled in on herself in sobs and Connor reached out a tentative hand of comfort.  
  
Angel was blinking heavily. "Where is Wesley?" he demanded of Gunn sharply.  
  
Gunn struggled to speak, and when he did his voice was trembling and low. "He ran off", he reported unsteadily. "I-I can't.."  
  
"We have to go to the docks", Angel said. He glanced around at his grieving crew with some of that old air of authority the past few months seemed to have stripped him from. "Understand? We have to, before all of Los Angeles is taken over".  
  
An hour later two more of their crew were to be added to the list of fatalities, and the essence of Wesley's vengeance began to bubble and grow.  
  
Little did they know the worst was still to come.  
  
~*~*~*~*  
  
TBC 


End file.
